


All My Tomorrows

by MissKitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe-Slavery, Bottom!Cas, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Thoughts of Self Harm/Suicide, Top!Sam, Torture, bottom!Samandriel, top!dean, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKitty/pseuds/MissKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God has cursed the angels. Cut off from Heaven, their only means of survival comes from bonding with a human soul. The humans quickly enslaved the angels and many of them suffer. Sam and Dean Winchester are working to rescue abused angels from their ruthless masters and help them find the right human to forge a bond with. Dean has already bonded with Castiel and Sam is hoping that one day he'll find an angel of his own. When he does, Samandriel is physically and emotionally scarred by a master with a penchant for torture. As their bond flourishes, the danger grows. Slave catchers and the FBI are closing in on the Winchesters. If caught, the angels will go back to their former masters and the Winchesters will likely spend the rest of their lives in prison. Can the boys keep their angels safe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Liquid_Thought who is great at everything.
> 
> I'm going to attempt to update every Sunday.
> 
> Title from Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy

A few decades ago, the world was forever changed. God returned to Heaven and lived up to His wrathful reputation when He discovered that His children were plotting to bring about the Apocalypse. That was the day that the angels fell. Enochian markings tattooed on their skin sealed their fate. They had been commanded to love humanity above all else before and now they had no choice.

Cut off from Heaven forever, their Grace needed to be sustained by connecting with a human soul. They were now totally dependent on the gestures of love and affection granted by humans. Without it, they would become weaker and weaker until they just withered away.

Sam had seen that happen and it was something he’d never forget. He remembered he was about seven or eight years old and he was walking down the sidewalk with Dean to get ice cream. The angel was sprawled out on the ground next to a dumpster, surrounded by feathers that had fallen from his wings. He was pale and emaciated. Sam remembered pointing to the angel. Dean knew a bit more about things back then and he tried desperately to pull Sam away. All Sam saw was a flash of light as the angels wings burned away.

From that day forward, Sam was obsessed. He wanted to know more about the angels and maybe find a way to save them. His eyes had been opened and now all he saw was the cruelty the angels suffered in silence. He saw how some of them looked empty and broken as they walked a few steps behind their human owner. They had no means to escape abuse. Doing so would surely result in death.

Sam knew that the angels had so much more potential because he’d also seen angels that were treated well. Those were the ones that could heal from any wound inflicted on them and sometimes they could even heal others. Sam believed that if humans and angels would just work together, then the possibilities would be endless. Maybe the angels could cure cancer and then no one would have to lose their mom the way Sam and Dean had.

For a long time, Dean just rolled his eyes at Sam’s wild theories about angels. Dean wasn’t so sure that the angels would even be willing to find a cure for human diseases. After all, the whole reason their feathery asses were stuck on solid ground was because they’d tried to start the damn Apocalypse. To his credit, Dean at least tolerated Sam’s angel talk. Their father thought it was all nonsense and a waste of time. The more he drank, the meaner he got about it until finally Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He said some words that he would spend the rest of his life wishing that he could take back. A snide remark about how angels could probably even cure liver disease would be some of the last words he’d ever spoken to his father before the old man finally died of just that.

Sam still wasn’t sure that Dean had forgiven him for that. There had been a three year period of no communication at all, but they worked their way up to phone calls on birthdays and major holidays.  Sam went to college and studied pre-law. He was the founding member and president of a Human Angel Alliance, which despite the name didn’t actually have any angel members. In fact, it barely had any members at all. It was mostly just Sam and his friends Jo, Kevin, and Jess talking about angels while they smoked pot in Jo and Jess’s apartment.

The other three members of the group moved on eventually. School got harder and other things took over. Kevin went to medical school and Jo used her new business degree to help her mom run The Roadhouse. Jess had stuck around the longest, in part because of her crush on Sam, but in the end he’d been completely clueless and the last he’d heard she was happily married.

In a way, Sam wished he could have moved on the way his friends had. He finished law school only to find that lobbying for angel rights wasn’t going to pay the rent. He took a job for some flashy law firm that was more about money and drama than doing the right thing. The closest he got to anything to do with angels was in divorce court when ownership was being decided.

A dark cloud of self-pity and depression hung over him as he went about his routine. Wake up, make it through the day at a job he hated, come home again, eat dinner alone, go to bed, lather, rinse, repeat. It was like living the same day over and over again.

Everything changed when his older brother showed up at his front door with an angel by his side. Castiel was by far the healthiest angel Sam had ever seen. The plumage on his wings was a healthy, shiny black and there was a spark in his eyes that most angels didn’t have.

It was the first time in years that the Winchester brothers were under the same roof. They stayed up all night, catching up on life. Dean had been working as a mechanic for their old family friend, Bobby Singer. Apparently, that’s how he’d found Castiel. The angel had his fair share of suffering and when the two of them met, Castiel was owned by a ruthless man named Alastair. When Dean discovered the angel was being ritualistically tortured, he had no qualms about stealing Castiel from his abusive owner.

Dean took care of the angel, but as they grew closer started to wonder just who saved who. Dean had always tried to be like their dad, but the only way he’d succeeded was a drinking problem. Castiel called their relationship a “profound bond” and Dean admitted that Cas had changed his life. Sam could hardly believe what he was seeing, but even after not speaking for so long he could see the change in Dean. After all, while they hadn’t explicitly said so, Sam was pretty sure Dean and Cas’s “profound bond” included interspecies sex, but there was no way Sam was going to bring that up.

Dean apologized to Sam for making fun of his angel obsession when they were kids. Sam started to tell Dean that it had all just been a stupid dream, but before he could say anything Dean went on to explain that he and Cas had been helping other angels escape and find humans that treated them as equals rather than as slaves. It turned out Sam’s theories about angels were true. The ones that were able to bond with a human through their own free will were getting stronger by the day. There were only a few of them, but those few were starting to heal humans. For now, they could only mend cuts, but with time they would be able to do more.

Dean wanted Sam to join them, confident that they could do more together than they could alone. Sam quit his job and left his whole life behind. Of course it was worth it from the very start. Within a week, they’d managed to rescue an angel named Anna and transported her all the way across the country. They finally stopped just outside of their hometown, where Anna met a woman named Pamela Barnes and last they’d heard the red haired angel was particularly proficient at curing minor colds.

Sam and Dean were closer than they’d ever been and Cas became like a brother to Sam. Even when things got dicey, they knew that as long as they had each other they could change the world one angel at a time. There were a few close calls with the police and slave catchers. After all, what they were doing was highly illegal. Still, it was all worth it when they helped an angel find the right human to bond with.

Michael developed a bond with a young med student named Adam Milligan. Lucifer provided surprising comfort for a man named Nick who had nothing left to live for. Gabriel found Becky who shared his penchant for sweets. Balthazar was living a lavish lifestyle in New York City with Bela Talbot.

For the most part, Sam was happy. This was what he’d dreamed of as a child, after all. Be that as it may, he still felt like something was missing and it dawned on him one day when an angel named Inias wandered off into a garden and ended up saving a woman’s tomato plants.

Sam saw the angels growing stronger and that was good, but what he’d never expected to see was how the humans also seemed better off. Dean smiled all the time. He’d finally gotten over himself and wasn’t shy at all about showing affection toward Cas. While sibling code demanded that Sam act grossed out, the truth was he was a little bit jealous. He wondered when it would be his turn.

Sam was happy with the work they were doing, but he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit hurt when a rescued angel didn’t latch on to him. He started to wonder if maybe there was something intrinsically wrong with him. Maybe his soul wasn’t good enough to sustain an angel’s Grace. Maybe he would never know what it was like and he’d just have to accept it. After all, there were more humans than angels so obviously some humans just weren’t meant to know what it was like to bond with an angel.

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like...almost Sunday. I just got excited.

The memories were fuzzy, but Samandriel could remember watching the humans from Heaven a long time ago. He was a gardener, responsible for all of the Earth’s flora. Every plant that existed and some that didn’t yet were in his garden. He loved his flowers the most, especially because while he watered the orchids he could look down and see the humans. They were so fascinating. He watched them hunting for food and the next thing he knew they were growing plants of their own to eat. They truly amazed him.

Of course, he’d never imagined they could be so cruel. Technically speaking, he did. He knew they had their wars and other atrocities, but deep down he believed them to be good. Even as some of the humans were killing each other, others were making love.

Crowley was slowly chipping away at Samandriel’s belief in the good of the world. Samandriel tried to be strong. After all, Crowley was very fickle and if Samandriel screamed too much or not enough, then he was deprived of the gentle caresses that kept him alive. As always, he tried to think of his flowers and not the blade digging into his arms or the spikes that pinned his wings to the wall.

“Come on, love,” Crowley hissed into his ear. “It’s no fun when you don’t scream.”

Samandriel shuddered and refused to look at Crowley’s face. He just wanted it to be over soon. He didn’t even care anymore that his Grace was aching with need for some kind of nourishment. He was starting to think that maybe combustion wasn’t the worst thing. At least then, it would be over for good and Crowley would never be able to hurt him again. The only setback was that he didn’t know what waited for him on the other side of death.

Crowley’s fingernail traced over the Enochian runes etched into Samandriel’s chest. It was so close to affection and Samandriel couldn’t help but lean toward the touch even though he hated it. He groaned as the razor started to slice into his thigh. Tears were welling in his eyes, but they weren’t falling yet and Crowley took that as a sign to take it up a notch.

With an almost bored sigh, Crowley browsed through his collection of torture devices before settling on his favorite cat o’ nine tails with metal tipped leather strands. He smiled at the whip before approaching Samandriel. Slowly, his master pulled the spikes from his wings and blood started to drip from them. His once white feathers were a dull, rusty red from the continued abuse and in some places they were completely bare.

As soon as his wings were freed, Samandriel dropped to his knees. He was too exhausted to stand, but that didn’t matter. Crowley cracked the whip close to Samandriel’s ear, nicking his cheek in the process. The slave struggled to his feet and followed Crowley to where two metal cuffs hung from a chain slung over the rafters. Samandriel had to strain keep his toes on the ground once the metal shackles snapped over his wrists.

After what seemed like forever, Samandriel was deaf to his own screams. His entire world was nothing but pain. The whip tore at his wings. His feathers were heavy and stuck together with the blood. They had been so pretty once. He remembered his sisters were jealous of the pure white color and when he puffed the plumage just right and moved a certain way he got the attention of many potential mates.

Samandriel was so caught in his memories that he hadn’t noticed that the whipping had stopped. His entire body was screaming in pain, but he’d made it through. Now he just had to wait and see if Crowley was pleased.

“Were you daydreaming, pet?” Crowley asked.

Samandriel’s voice was too hoarse to respond. All that came out was a pathetic squeak.

Crowley grinned devilishly. “You know I don’t like that, Samandriel.”

Samandriel swallowed and struggled to find his voice. “Please...” he croaked.

His master shook his head. “I think not. You weren’t focusing on our fun.”

Samandriel finally broke down. Sobs wracked his entire body, reopening the torn flesh.

“Hopefully you’ll learn your lesson next time.”

***

Sam checked his gun for the third time before finally returning it to his thigh holster. He tucked his knife into his boot, just to be safe. They had yet to use those weapons, but it was nice to know that they were there just in case. Sam’s main concern was making sure his taser and Mace were mission ready. He looked up and saw that Dean was going through his pre-rescue ritual of checking Cas over and over again like a worried mother hen. Once satisfied, Dean kissed his angel and pulled him into a tight hug.

“You be careful,” Dean whispered so softly that Sam barely heard him.

Sam smiled sadly at the couple. Watching their happiness only made him ache for something more in his own life. It was no good to dwell on all that, though. They were about to attempt something extremely dangerous and stupidly risky.

Crowley was a very rich man, though no one was sure where he got his money. His mansion was surrounded by a concrete wall and guarded by vicious dogs. Blueprints for the place revealed a basement that sounded a lot more like a dungeon. Passersby had reported hearing screams on more than one occasion.

The three of them exchanged weary yet determined looks as they grabbed their duffels and went to the Impala. Sam was crowded in the back seat and it was technically his turn to ride shotgun, but he wasn’t going to say anything and deprive Dean and Cas of the ability to hold hands like this was the last time they’d ever see each other.

Dean parked the Impala a few blocks away and they approached the compound from behind. Castiel stepped toward the towering wall ahead of him and pressed his hands to it.

“Do you think you can take it down?” Sam asked.

“I believe I can. My Grace is stronger every day.”

Dean kissed Cas and whispered, “Just a little extra help.”

Sam rolled his eyes and began to rethink his stance on their cheesy displays of affection. “Let’s do this.”

The night was silent and Cas stood with his eyes closed for a long while. Suddenly there was a loud crack and the concrete began to crumble beneath his fingers. Soon there was a crater large enough for the three of them to crawl through. Cas went first, wings tucked in tight as dogs started to rush toward the source of the sound. They were barking and Sam started to get nervous that they would be discovered.

Cas spread his wings and puffed up his feathers to make himself look large and intimidating. “Silence,” he commanded.

The dogs’ barks tapered off to defeated whines. Cas continued to stare at the dogs as they slowly crept toward the compound. Their target was a doorway in the back that would lead them straight to the suspected torture chamber. Sam started to wonder what kind of shape they would find the angel in. They had a first aid kit back in the Impala and Cas could help in theory, but they were already pushing the limits of his Grace.

The security force rushed toward them as they were working to take down the door. Sam pulled out his taser and took down the closest guard. He spun around to quickly make sure that Cas and Dean were alright. Castiel had told them he was a warrior in Heaven, the commander of an entire garrison. Sam definitely believed it. He never wanted to get on Cas’s bad side. Dean was holding his ground as well, but it seemed like as soon as one guard was incapacitated, two more ran up. They were losing precious time. If this continued, there was a chance someone could take off with the angel.

One of the guard’s clubbed Sam’s shoulder hard enough to make him drop the taser. He quickly pulled out his can of Mace and closed his eyes tightly as he sprayed the guards. He was able to take down three of them before the can was letting out nothing but air.

There was a loud crash as Dean managed to kick down the door. He turned around to punch the guard that had grabbed him and Sam rushed inside. Cas immediately covered Sam’s back and kept the guards from following him. It was pure luck that there weren’t more guards waiting for him when he got to the dungeon and he attributed it to overconfidence on their part.

Crowley apparently had a penchant for cliches and that worked to Sam’s benefit. He was able to quickly find the door to the dungeon based on the barred window. Sam pulled his lockpick from his pocket and made quick work of the latch. He opened the door slowly. This was always the tricky part. Some angels startled easily and it did no good to have to chase and subdue them.

That wasn’t a concern though. The angel was chained in place, arms stretched high toward the ceiling and he could barely keep himself up. His wings drooped tiredly and his face was smudged with a mixture of blood and tears. He was clothed in a tight pair of boxer briefs and that was it. The way he shivered from the cold make Sam feel like his heart was going to break.

Sam slowly approached the angel. “I know you’re scared, but I’m here to help you,” Sam said gently. “Do you understand? I’m not going to hurt you.”

The angel let out a shuddering sigh and nodded weakly.

Sam took one of the cuffs and worked at it with the lockpick until it snapped open. The angel slumped forward and Sam had to wrap one strong arm around him to help him stay up. “I’ve got you,” he reassured. “Just hold on to me, I need to get the other cuff.”

The angel quickly obeyed. He grabbed a handful of Sam’s shirt and held on like his life depended on it. Sam had assisted with over a dozen of these rescue missions, but he’d never seen an angel quite so hurt. When the angel was freed from the cuffs, his entire weight rested on Sam.

“I’m going to take you outside and then we’re going somewhere safe,” Sam explained.

The night had a slight chill and Sam worried about taking the angel outside in it. He contemplated for a moment before gently shifting the angel around to shrug off his outer layer of flannel plaid. The shirt was big enough to wrap around the angel, just under his torn up wings. Sam fastened a few of the buttons to keep the shirt in place.

That act of kindness seemed to be enough to win him over. Sam smiled and lifted the angel easily. “Can you tell me your name?” Sam asked.

“Samandriel,” the angel said. His voice was scratchy and he was covered in his own blood, but he was looking up at Sam like this was the best day of his life. For all Sam knew, it could be and that was unspeakably sad.

Sam carried Samandriel out into the hallway, toward the door at a quick pace. “My name is Sam Winchester,” Sam said. “I’m going to take you outside and we’re going to walk to our car. My brother, Dean, is out there. We have an angel with us, his name is Castiel.”

Samandriel’s eyes lit up at the mention of Cas, but it appeared his voice had gone out.

Sam smiled. “He’ll be happy to see you too. You’re almost safe, Samandriel. Just keep holding on to me.”

Once again, Samadriel was quick to obey. He clutched Sam’s T-shirt and buried his face against Sam’s chest. Sam saw Dean up ahead, waving to indicate that the coast was clear. Dean covered Sam’s back as they rushed toward the hole in the wall. It was crunch time. By now, there would be police on the way, possibly even slave catchers. They had to get back to the motel as quickly as possible.

When they reached the wall, Sam crouched down. “You need to tuck your wings in close,” Sam said.

Samandriel cried out from the pain of moving his damaged wings, but he did as he was told. Sam passed Samandriel through to Cas. Once he felt the angel’s slight weight lifted away, he crawled through and stood quickly.

Cas had a pained look on his face as he assessed the damage to his brother. “Samandriel, what have they done to your wings?” Cas said mournfully.

Samandriel didn’t speak or make a sound, but the moonlight reflected off of the tears in his eyes and somehow that was more depressing. Sam reached out to take Samandriel back into his arms. There was something about this angel, maybe it was because he looked so young and afraid or because he was so hurt. Whatever it was, Sam felt the urge to protect him no matter what.

Dean pulled Cas in for a quick kiss and they started to move quickly toward the Impala. Once Samandriel was safely in the backseat, Dean drove away, careful not to go too fast. They had to be careful not to draw attention to themselves. They couldn’t fully relax until they got to motel room they’d rented in the next town over. They would rest for the night and get an early start. Once they were further away, they could shift their focus to helping Samandriel find the right person to bond his Grace to.

The motel looked completely abandoned. There was nobody in sight this late at night. Sam carried Samandriel inside and gently laid him on the bed. Cas healed what he could before he was too drained. He focused mostly on Samandriel’s wings and stopping all the bleeding. Cas swayed where he stood and Sam could tell that the angel in the trenchcoat had overexerted himself.

Dean flew into overprotective boyfriend mode. He put his arm around Cas and turned to Sam. “Do you think you can handle things?”

Sam nodded. “I can get him cleaned up. The only thing I don’t know how to do is his wings.”

“Just use water for now,” Cas said. “Use your fingers and comb through the feathers gently. You probably won’t be able to get them completely clean, but just removing some of the blood will make him feel much better. Thank you, Sam.”

Dean nodded his unspoken thanks and steered Cas toward their separate room. Sam ran a hand through his hair and worked out a plan of action. After reassuring Samandriel that he would be right back, he went to the bathroom and filled the ice bucket with warm water.

He grabbed the washcloth and started washing gently. He started slowly, cleaning the blood away from Samandriel’s bruised and chafed wrists. The angel watched him with something close to admiration in his eyes. Sam undid the shirts buttons and started to dab away at the blood on Samandriel’s chest and stomach.

“I’m going to keep cleaning you, but if you get scared I can stop and let you do it,” Sam said. He waited for Samandriel to indicate that he understood before he started gently wiping away the blood from the cuts on his thighs. Samandriel winced at the pain, but it didn’t seem like he was triggered and Sam was thankful for small victories.

It took a while, but Sam managed to sponge away the dried blood and treat the wounds with antiseptic. All that was left were the wings. Sam thought that maybe they were supposed to be white, but there were several patches that had been ripped out and the feathers that remained were caked with blood.

“Alright, let’s take care of your wings,” Sam said. “I’m going to carry you to the shower.”

Samandriel sat up in the bed. “I think I can walk, Sam Winchester.”

Sam smiled. “Alright. Good job. Don’t push yourself too much. I’m here to help.”

Samandriel was a bit shaky at first, but he made it to the bathroom without stumbling. Sam had to help him step into the tub and took the flannel shirt off of him. There was a handicap bar in the shower and Samandriel used it to support himself as he stood with his back to Sam. The shower head was detachable and Sam set it to the lowest pressure.

“Is this alright?” Sam asked.

“It feels good,” Samandriel said softly, spreading his wings a bit to give Sam easier access.

Sam found that he actually enjoyed cleaning Samandriel’s wings. The feathers were extremely soft against his fingers. The water was draining away pink and Samandriel’s feathers turned out to be white underneath it all.

Things were going smoothly until Sam hit a snag. Samandriel whimpered and Sam quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. What did I do? Are you alright?”

“They’re tangled up,” Samandriel said. He winced again. “I can feel it. It’s all stuck to one feather. Y-you have to just pull it out.”

Sam apologized again before quickly pulling the offending feather. He came away with a clump of down feathers cemented with blood.

“That’s better,” Sam said. He quickly finished with the wings and gave Samandriel’s hair a good rinse as well before shutting off the water.Just in time, because the hot water didn’t last all that long. “Now what?” Sam asked.

“I need to dry.”

Sam pulled the complimentary hair dryer from the wall and set it on low speed and low heat. The sparse feathers dried quickly and Samandriel was almost smiling after the grooming was complete.

“Feel better?” Sam asked.

Samandriel nodded and whispered, “I’m very tired.”

“Of course. Let’s get you a glass of water, first of all. It’ll help your voice. I’ll find you something to wear while you sleep.”

Samandriel gulped down the water like he’d been wandering in the desert for weeks. Sam quickly realized that he was considerably bigger than Samandriel and while he knew that his flannel shirts worked as a top, the only thing he head with an elastic waistband was his boxers. He didn’t figure it would matter too much though and he gave Samandriel privacy to change.

The angel looked satisfied and Sam was very pleased. For a while, he was starting to think that angels just didn’t like him. Of course, Cas did, but that was kind of a given since they were pretty much brothers-in-law. Otherwise, the rescued angels had always favored Dean because he was bonded to an angel.

Samandriel seemed to trust Sam a lot and it gave him a much needed ego boost. Sam settled onto one of the beds and was more than a little bit surprised when Samandriel crawled into the bed with him despite the fact that there was an empty one.

“Good night, Sam Winchester.”

Sam chuckled. “Just call me Sam.”

The angel mumbled his response and before he even finished his incoherent thought, he was asleep.

 


	3. Chapter 2

Sam woke up earlier than usual the next morning. He was careful about getting out of the bed because Samandriel was sleeping so peacefully. Sam had learned a bit about angels through their many rescue missions so he knew that they didn’t need to eat the same way that humans did. However, Samandriel still looked so hurt and starved that Sam felt like he should feed the angel breakfast anyway.

The vending machine at the end of the hall would have to suffice, though Sam wished he could do more. He bought chocolate covered donuts because donuts technically counted as breakfast food. There was no juice available, but orange soda was kind of like orange juice, right? Sam couldn’t wait to get to the safe house. There was real food there, not this diabetes-inducing crap.

Samandriel woke up as Sam was returning to the room. He sat up and shot a terrifyingly mean look at the sunlight streaming through the window. He pulled the blanket up over his head and rolled over.

Sam laughed and sat on the edge of the bed. “I got you something,” he said.

Samandriel peeked out from under the covers. “Really?”

Sam held up the can of soda and package of donuts. The angel sat up to investigate. His hair stuck up on one side and the flannel shirt he’d borrowed hung off of his shoulders revealing pale skin with angry red welts. He was still in a sleepy, confused haze and just stared at the items in Sam’s hand like he’d never seen anything like it in his life.

Sam tapped the top of the can and opened it carefully. The cracking sound startled Samandriel a little bit. He took the can and sniffed at the top before taking a tentative sip. As soon as he tasted it though, his eyes went wide and he tilted the can and started gulping it down.

Sam smiled. “Slow down, it’s not going anywhere,” he said. He tore the plastic wrapping off of the donuts and held them out. “These are for you too.”

“Thank you, Sam,” the angel said. His feathers rustled as he wiggled his wings happily. “This is very good.”

Samandriel continued to enjoy his breakfast while Sam showered and got dressed. When Sam finished, he found that the angel had gone back to sleep. He leaned against the doorway and watched Samandriel for a moment. He was almost certain that the cut on the angel’s cheek looked a little better and the bruises on his wrists were lighter than before.

There was a knock on the door and Sam peered through the peephole before letting Dean and Cas in the room. They were fully dressed and carrying their bags already, looking more concerned and stressed out than usual.

“Have you turned on the TV yet?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head and reached for the remote. He turned on the TV and sat on the edge of the bed next to Samandriel.

A gorgeous blond news anchor looked intense as she read from the teleprompter. “Last night police received report of a stolen angel, adding yet another to the list of a worrying number of slaves being taken from their masters.”

“It’s just cruel,” said a middle-aged woman being interviewed in the middle of a park. “Angels need their owners. It’s for their own good, they can’t survive without their masters.”

The anchorwoman was on the screen once again, still serious and unemotional. “Many citizens are concerned that these are the first signs of an abolitionist agenda.”

The scene cut to an older man standing on a street corner being interviewed, his face getting red as he spoke passionately. “All these bleeding-heart liberal abolitionists running around trying to mess with the natural order of things, but let me tell you something: God intended for humans to enslave the angels. It’s God’s will. I’m not being speciesist, it’s just a fact. The angels sinned and they fell. God willed them to serve humans. It’s not right to mess with what nature intended.”

The angry man’s tirade woke Samandriel up again. He sat up and stared at the screen as if afraid someone would come through it and grab him.

The pretty young reporter’s voice was layered over stock videos of people walking the streets with angels following dutifully. “Officials ask that you take proper disciplinary measures if you see any of your slaves exhibiting suspicious behavior. Meanwhile, the FBI has opened an investigation. Agent Viktor Henrikson of the Angel Regulation Unit had this to say-”

A dark skinned man with intimidatingly wide shoulders and a strong jaw spoke into the microphone without looking at the camera. “Clearly we take these sorts of things very seriously. If we find that there is some sort of organized effort being made to free angels then anyone associated with that will answer for their crimes.”

Sam turned the TV off and gave Samandriel a reassuring smile. “We need to start moving. The sooner we get to the safe house, the better.”

***

They drove non-stop for hours and they would have made it to their destination if not for a slight hitch in their plan, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to be angry about it. Samandriel was still very hurt and being in the car for so long wasn’t helping him. However, it was Sam that was insisting that they stop because otherwise Dean was pretty sure the angel would have continued to suffer in silence.

They checked in with different false identities than they’d used at the previous motel and went to their rooms. Dean had to admit, it was nice to have some alone time with his angel. Cas had changed into his baggy pajama pants and one of Dean’s old Metallica T-shirts with holes in the back for his wings. He sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed, waiting for Dean to come groom his wings.

Dean started combing through the feathers with his fingers. He’d been doing this for a long time and he’d gotten good at untangling the feathers. Grooming always relaxed Cas and in a way it did the same for Dean.

“Are you scared?” Dean asked. “About what we saw on the news, I mean.”

“The only thing that frightens me is the possibility of being separated from you,” Cas admitted.

“That’ll never happen,” Dean said. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, Cas. You know that.”

“I do know that,” Cas replied. “I just also know how ruthless some humans are in their treatment of angels. Samandriel was good and you saw what was done to him.”

Dean could sense that he needed to change the subject. “Tell me about Samandriel. You two knew each other, right?”

Cas nodded. “Samandriel was just about to come of age before we fell so...yes, of course I knew of him.”

“Did you try to hit that?” Dean teased and even though Cas was facing the other way, he could picture the slightly annoyed but adorable scowl.

“No, I did not try to ‘hit that’ as you so delicately put it. I simply meant that I had heard of him. He was a talented gardener and everyone knew that he had some of the most beautiful wings out of all of us. White feathers are very rare.”

“They’re fine, I guess. I think I like your black ones better.” Dean grinned and started to massage the space between Cas’s wings,.stimulating the oil gland tucked in the sensitive joint were his wings connected to his back. Cas let out a gentle moan as Dean worked the gland to coat his hands with the oil. He then ran his fingers through Cas’s feathers.

Dean stood and kissed Cas’s lips gently, teasingly, making the angel crawl across the bed until Dean had enough room to lay him down properly. Dean got rid of Cas’s pajama pants and moved up Castiel’s body, planting light kisses on his thighs and stomach before coming up to kiss his lips again.

Cas spread his legs and made a pleading sound. Dean obliged and his fingers found their way to Cas’s hole that was already starting to leak. That never failed to turn him on and pretty soon his jeans were a little too restricting. He rose to his knees and undid his pants. By the time Dean finished stripping, there was a little puddle of slick forming on the sheets and his angel was writhing practically begging for him. Dean wasn’t one to make Cas wait and he wasted no time making sure his angel was satisfied.

***

Samandriel collapsed on the bed the moment they walked in to the motel room. The ride in the car had definitely worn him out. Every bump made him wince from the pain and toward the end of the day the deeper gashes had started to come open again.

Sam walked a few blocks down the road to the Walmart he’d seen on the way in. He bought bandages and some more antiseptic, as well as a little spray bottle that he thought would be good for helping Samandriel to groom his wings. While he was at it, he headed to the clothing department to find something suitable for Samandriel.

There was a small section for angels that had zippers or laces to allow room for wings, but most of them had some pretty offensive words and logos. Phrases like “I know my place” and “Property of ____” were a common theme. One had a list of good angel qualities that was supposed to be comical but Sam didn’t get it. The things without any writing or pictures were made out of cheap fabric that couldn’t be very comfortable.

Sam moved over to the human section and found a wall of T-shirts. They were slightly better. The attempts at humor there were stupid rather than offensive and sad, but the material was 100% cotton and Sam was certain that the angel would like the feel of it. He managed to find a few plain blue and black striped ones and one with a Weiner Hut logo on it that Sam only got because it somehow felt even softer than the rest. Sam grabbed a few pairs of sweatpants as well. He wanted to be sure that Samandriel was comfortable. Shoes were a little bit harder to decide on because he couldn’t just guess the size, but he did find some good socks that would keep Samandriel’s feet warm. They were headed north and it would only be getting colder.

After that Sam went off in search of something microwavable, but still edible. He grabbed something for Samandriel as well, just in case. He checked out and walked back to the motel. It was a little slower going this time because he’d gone slightly overboard with the food and while it wasn’t too heavy for him, it was kind of unwieldy.

Samandriel was still asleep when Sam returned. He put the bags on the floor next to the rest of his things and started cooking his Healthy Choice frozen dinner. He intended to let Samandriel sleep, but the microwave’s ding woke the angel up.

“Hey, how do you feel?” Sam asked.

“Better but still not very good,” Samandriel said. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes. “What are you doing, Sam?”

“I was making myself something to eat. I could make something for you too if you’d like.”

Samandriel tilted his head in confusion. “Sam, angels don’t have to eat food.”

Sam smiled and dug through his bag to find the Ziploc full of plastic forks. “I know, but Cas said once he likes the taste even though he doesn’t really need the nutrients, especially when it comes to burgers. Is there anything in particular that you like?”

Samandriel shook his head. “Master Crowley never gave me human food. I’ve only had the things you gave me this morning and that was very good.”

Sam pulled the bag out of the mini-fridge and started going through it. “You could have the same things I’m having, but I also got pizza rolls. They’re really good.”

“I’m happy with anything. You really don’t have to feed me,” Samandriel said, but there was a wistful tone in his voice that showed he really did like trying human food.

Sam put the pizza rolls on the only plate they owned and stuck them in the microwave. He gave Samandriel a bottle of water and soon they were settled on the bed watching a rerun of The Simpsons.

“I don’t understand, Sam. Humans aren’t yellow,” Samandriel said.

“It’s a cartoon. Sometimes those aren’t very realistic,” Sam replied.

They finished eating and Samandriel kept thanking Sam profusely for being so kind. “Thank you, Sam. I think I like pizza rolls.”

Sam was pretty proud of himself for doing something good and decided to keep up the streak. “I got some other things as well. First, let’s take care of your injuries.”

Samandriel dutifully stripped off his borrowed shirt and waited for Sam to dab at the wounds with a warm, wet cloth. He winced and whimpered, but stayed completely still and the only time he flinched away was when the antiseptic spray hit the worst of the whip marks.

“You’re doing great,” Sam said. “I’m going to get these covered up for you and then I can groom your wings for you if you’d like.”

Samandriel’s wings fluttered. “I do like that.”

Sam filled his spray bottle with water and started to groom. The bald patches made him wince still, but they looked much better. Castiel had been able to heal the abrasions, so now it was just a matter of waiting for the feathers to come back. After the second cleaning, Samandriel’s wings were an even more brilliant white. It reminded Sam of the first time he’d ever seen snow. The feathers seemed to shine.

Samandriel yawned and stretched. “Thank you, Sam. That feels better. You’re very kind.”

Sam started ripping the tags off of the clothes he’d bought and when he finished he looked up to see that Samandriel was putting on the plaid shirt he’d borrowed from Sam.

“I got you your own stuff if you want it,” Sam said.

“I like this one,” Samandriel replied. He held the fabric as if he were afraid that Sam would try to take it away.

“It’s yours then.”

Sam folded up the clothes and started turning off the lamps, leaving only one of them on as he went to change into something more comfortable to sleep in. Samandriel had already fallen asleep when he returned. The healing process was exhausting the angel and Sam wished he knew how to make it easier.

Things would be much better for Samandriel once he bonded with a human. Sam really wanted that human to be him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. None of the other angels had wanted to stay with him and it would only be a matter of time before Samandriel found someone that would do a much better job than Sam.

Sam debated taking the untouched bed on the opposite side of the room, but decided against it. He shouldn’t let Samandriel suffer just because the angel would leave someday. After all, human contact was still a good thing, even if he was asleep.

***

The next morning they woke early to get back on the road. Samandriel wore his new clothes and he seemed very satisfied, especially with the Wiener Hut shirt. Sam had been right in assuming that Samandriel would want the softest fabrics he could get ahold of. Once Sam finished cutting a hole for the angel’s wings he started to pack up while Samandriel got dressed.

When the angel returned Sam was surprised to see that he was still wearing the flannel shirt. Sam guessed that it had become some type of security blanket for him and he was glad. They met Dean and Cas out in the parking lot once they’d returned their room keys and checked out.

“Wiener Hut?” Dean snorted.

“Don’t be rude, Dean,” Sam sighed.

“No, no it’s adorable. I almost wanna start calling him Alfie or somethin’ cute like that.”

Samandriel smiled and looked toward Sam as if he were making sure that was the correct response. That’s when it occurred to Sam that maybe he’d found his angel after all.


	4. Chapter 3

Samandriel didn’t like to be far from Sam. In the car, the angel was practically in Sam’s lap. When they made pit stops, Samandriel was right at Sam’s elbow as he walked around to stretch his legs. Sam expected that the angel would feel a little bit safer once they arrived at their destination, but Samandriel still clung to Sam’s sleeve.

“We’ll be safe here,” Sam said. “This is hidden pretty well. We’ll stay here and wait until it’s safe for us to go back out in public again.”

“When will that be?” Samandriel asked.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know for sure.”

They unloaded their meager belongings and settled in to the rustic cabin. Dean called dibs on the big bed and Sam made sure to vocalize his displeasure.

“Dean, I’m too tall for the other beds,” he groaned.

“Too bad, Sammy,” Dean laughed.

Sam narrowed his eyes and glared at his big brother.

“No use giving me the bitchface,” Dean teased. “I already called it.”

Sam shook his head and opened the door to the smaller bedroom. A long time ago, so long ago that Sam barely remembers it, this was the cabin that their dad would take them to during deer season. They’d go out in their camo with sandwiches in little plastic bags and thermoses full of tomato soup. It would be fun, until suddenly it wasn’t. Dad would spot a deer and he’d try to get one of his son’s to pull the trigger, but neither of the boy’s really wanted to kill Bambi’s mom. Then, Dad would yell at them until they were both crying and they’d come back to the cabin for a tense, angry night before the miserable drive home.

Strangely though, it was comforting to see that the room hadn’t changed a bit. It had the same hokey cowboy decor, the same musty smell. He remembered sitting on the edge of the full sized bed and sobbing into his hands while Dean reassured him that Dad still loved them, even if they couldn’t kill a deer.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress sagged under his weight and the wooden bed frame creaked. He sighed and folded his hands like he was about to pray, although he didn’t really know who he would pray too. Heaven was empty as far as he knew. All the angels were slaves on earth.

Samandriel appeared in the doorway. He was still wearing Sam’s plaid flannel shirt over his Weiner Hut T-shirt. Sam noticed that the angel was also still wearing his borrowed boxers, the waistband sticking out from the sweatpants that hung just a little loose. Sam really wanted to kiss the angel, but he wasn’t sure if it was the right move to make.

He stood up and walked to Samandriel’s side. “Do you like it here?” he asked.

Samandriel shrugged. “It’s very nice.”

“You can go outside if you want to,” Sam said. “You have to stay close, but I think you’d still enjoy it.”

Samandriel smiled and followed Sam to the door. “Thank you, Sam,” he said.

“No problem,” Sam responded. “There used to be a garden here. I think the plants are all dead by now, but you can still walk around the stone path.”

Samandriel perked up. “I’d love to see the garden.”

Sam led the way and smiled as the angel raced ahead to look at the thorny, dried out remains of the roses. “I was the gardener in Heaven,” Samandriel said excitedly. “I tended every plant in existence. I’d whisper to them when it was time for them to bloom or bear fruit. It was wonderful.” Samandriel’s happy look faded to sadness. “I can’t do any of that anymore, of course.”

Sam put his arm around the angel. “Maybe not all of it, but you could still have a garden. We’ll get you seeds, bulbs, plants, whatever you need. When spring comes, I’ll help you plant it all.”

Samandriel smiled. “I’d like that, but I could still take care of these plants. They aren’t dead, just waiting.”

Sam gathered up all of his courage and tilted Samandriel’s chin up. He hesitated for a second, making sure that he was reading the situation right. That slight pause was long enough for the panic to well up in him and at the last minute, he talked himself out of kissing the angel. He pressed his lips softly to Samandriel’s forehead instead.

Samandriel wrapped his arm around Sam’s neck and pulled the human closer. The angel turned out to be braver than Sam, and soft lips met his. Samandriel was a little clumsy and inexperienced, but he was eager as he lapped at Sam’s bottom lip. Sam took control of the kiss, his tongue slid easily into Samandriel’s mouth. The angel tasted sweet.

They broke apart, both panting and flushed. Sam smoothed down Samandriel’s hair and kissed his cheek. “Let me know if you need anything for your garden.”

Samandriel just grinned and started to break away the dead parts of the plants. Sam watched him for a while before he went back inside to start making vegetable soup. It was going to be a cold night, the first of many to come. Sam had no idea what made Samandriel think that he could bring the roses back to life, but it made the angel happy and that was all Sam wanted to see.

Once the food was ready, Sam called everyone to the table. His timing was perfect because at that moment, Bobby’s old pickup truck came rattling down the dirt driveway. The new human made Samandriel nervous, but Sam calmed him quickly by taking his hand.

“Looks good,” Bobby said as he got a bowl of stew and sat down.

“Thanks,” Sam replied. “This is Samandriel, the one we rescued.”

Samandriel smiled shyly and pressed himself closer to Sam like he was trying to hide. Sam coaxed the angel into eating before turning his attention back to Bobby. “How is everything?” he asked.

Bobby looked a bit troubled and busied himself by twisting the cap off of his beer. “There’s some nut job on TV named Dick Roman. He keeps talking about illegal slave smuggling and he’s getting people riled up about it. He’s a real piece of work. One of those evangelical types who thinks that it’s against God’s will to free the angels.”

Dean set his silverware down a bit harder than necessary. “Guess that means we need to lay low for awhile,” he said.

Bobby nodded. “I let everyone know to put any rescue missions on hold until this blows over. For now, we just need to wait it out. Once the news ratings go down, they’ll find some other scandal to go on about and we can get back to work. Until then, there will be Feds all over the place and any idiot with a gun will think he’s a slave catcher.”

Sam didn’t really like to think about the consequences and the risks, but he knew they couldn’t avoid it forever. That didn’t mean they had to talk about it though and of course that meant they finished the meal in silence. Bobby promised to come back soon and left.

Dean wordlessly helped Sam clean up the kitchen while Cas checked over Samandriel’s wounds and tried to speed along the healing process on the worst of them. Afterwards, Dean and Cas went straight to their bedroom.

Sam wasn’t tired, but Samandriel was yawning and pulling his sleeve, so he followed. He ended up laying flat on his back with his feet hanging off the end of the bed and Samandriel fell asleep right on top of him. The angel was comfortable and that was all that mattered, but Sam wasn’t sure if he’d be able to fall asleep.

Light from the moon was shining through the window and Sam stared at it for a while. He let his thoughts wander, picturing endless disaster scenarios. How would he get Samandriel to safety if slave catchers found them? How would he get Samandriel back if they took him away?

The angel sleeping on his chest stirred and whimpered, fighting off some unseen terror. Sam gently shook him and spoke softly. “It’s alright now, Samandriel. Wake up. You’re safe now.”

Samandriel’s eyes shot open and he looked around the room wildly until finally he was able to focus on Sam. “I was seeing things,” he whispered.

“It was a dream,” Sam explained. “I know it felt real, but you’re here and you’re safe.”

Samandriel was still shaking. “It hurt so much.”

Sam held the angel a little tighter. “I know, baby, but I’m here now.”

“I don’t want to sleep anymore,” Samandriel said miserably.

“That’s fine,” Sam replied. He shifted and they got out of the bed.

Sam looked through the closets until he found a checkerboard covered in dust. They sat cross-legged on the floor and Sam taught the angel how to play. The change in the angel’s demeanor was amazing. It was great to see him smiling. Sam let him win twice and soon he was yawning again.

“We should go back to bed,” Sam suggested.

Samandriel shook his head. “No, I don’t want to.”

Sam kissed the angel’s forehead. “I know you’re scared of what you might see, but I’ll always be here when you wake up. I promise.”

Samandriel yawned and climbed into the bed with Sam once again. The angel combed his fingers through Sam’s hair until his eyes started to close. Sam struggled to keep his eyes open until he was sure that Samandriel was sleeping peacefully.

***

The moment they heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, they all tensed. They weren’t expecting anyone. Dean pulled Cas close and kissed him. Sam put his arms around Samandriel.

“Stay in the house,” Sam said.

“If we say run, you both run,” Dean added.

The Winchester brothers stepped outside, guns at the ready behind their backs. They were relieved momentarily when they realized it was just Jody, but the look on her face when she got out of her car had them worried all over again.

She was twisting her wedding ring around her finger nervously as she approached. The brothers moved aside and let her in the house. Cas nodded to Samandriel to let him know that they were still safe.

She paced for a bit before finally turning to explain everything. “Boys,” her voice wavered. “We just found out that Nick and Lucifer were caught.”

Dean’s hand flew out to grab Cas’s. “When?” he asked.

“It just happened last night,” Jody said. “It was on the news this morning. All I know right now is that Lucifer has been returned to his owner and Nick is in jail.”

“What about the others?” Sam asked.

Jody shook her head. “We were able to contact Adam. He and Michael are still safe. None of the others have been able to return our messages.”

“Guess that means this won’t blow over as fast as we thought,” Dean sighed.

“You boys can’t risk going out. Right now, we don’t know what Nick and Lucifer may have been forced to reveal. Bobby and I won’t be able to come back here for a few days. We’ll try our best to let you know what’s going on, but it might be a while.”

“We’ll be alright,” Sam said.

Jody attempted to smile. “I know.” She hugged the four of them and went back to her car. She stood, staring at them for a while before she got in and drove away.

 


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the new tag. There is a brief moment of a character considering self harm (suicide if you squint). If this bothers you, read with caution.  
> But there's also genitals because I'm not totally mean.

Sam was trying his best to hold it together for Samandriel’s sake, but the reality of the situation was starting to take it’s toll on him. Normally, they’d already be planning their next rescue. Bobby would tap his sources, find an angel that was being abused. They’d spend days, sometimes weeks, planning their rescue. There was no stopping, there were no breaks. Suddenly, everything had come grinding to a halt and Sam wasn’t really sure what to do with all his spare time.

Dean and Cas had their own ways of killing the time, rather loud ways to be completely honest. Sam didn’t blame them though. Underneath the boredom and the stir craziness, there was this sense of dread. Maybe this was the end of the line, maybe they’d had their run. Maybe saving the angels had just been a suicide mission all along.

Sam tried not to let himself think that way. He tried to focus on the good things. He finally had time to re-read his favorite books and just relax for a second. Samandriel was doing well, all things considered. He had nightmares most nights, but it didn’t take very long for Sam to bring him back to reality. He spent hours outside in the garden. Sam didn’t really know what the hell the angel was doing. Mostly it just looked like he was sitting and talking to the plants. Whatever it was, it was working because the rose bushes were starting to turn green again.

***

Samandriel sighed at his reflection in the mirror. He brushed his fingers over the patches of pin feathers and cringed. He was constantly aware of how hideous they must be, but looking at them directly like this was almost too much. He looked like a fledgling and he hated himself for it. His wings were supposed to be beautiful, but they weren’t. Was he just too weak? Had he done something wrong to deserve it?

He had the irrational urge to just rip out the ugly pin feathers. His fingers itched with the need to. But what good would that do? He was crying. He hadn’t noticed starting, but he was. He just wanted his beautiful, silky, white wings back. He didn’t want these patchy, tattered, disgusting things.

It had to stop. He couldn’t stand to look at himself anymore. What little Grace he had slipped from his control and the mirror shattered. The pieces were loud when they hit the tile. Samandriel backed away, scared of what he might do if his itchy fingers found one of the sharp objects. It had to stop, he needed it all to stop. He wrapped his arms around his knees and curled up on himself.

The sound of the door opening startled him. Sam looked worried and Samandriel didn’t really know how to feel. On one hand, he wanted Sam to stay with him and make him feel better. On the other, he wanted everyone to just go away because he didn’t deserve any of it.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

Samandriel looked up and pointed vaguely toward where the mirror had been. “I broke it,” he said. His voice sounded dull and far away. Looking at the shattered mess made his head hurt, so he rested his forehead on his knees and tried to stop feeling so empty.

Sam carefully knelt beside Samandriel. “I see,” he said softly. “Why did you do that?”

Samandriel couldn’t find the words. It was really a stupid thing to have done. Losing control of his Grace like that was something a hatchling would do. What would Sam think of that? The angel swallowed and gestured lamely at his wings. “They’re not pretty anymore,” Samandriel said shakily. “They’re not supposed to look like this. Angels aren’t supposed to look this way.”

Sam was gentle when he put his hand on Samandriel’s shoulder, but the angel still flinched anyway. “Do you think you could look at me?” Sam asked. “I’m about to say something really important.”

Samandriel’s head felt heavy, but he lifted his eyes to meet Sam’s.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Sam whispered. “What Crowley did to you isn’t your fault. It was wrong. He hurt you. But Samandriel...baby, you’re beautiful. You survived and that’s beautiful. You’re healing and that’s beautiful too.”

Samandriel squeezed his eyes shut. His thoughts were moving too fast. It was like the room was spinning and the only thing that was solid was Sam, so Samandriel moved closer. Sam’s arms wrapped around him and things slowed down. He felt like he could breathe again.

“For what it’s worth, I like your wings,” Sam said. “But it doesn’t really matter what I think. It’s what you think.”

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” Samandriel admitted.

“It won’t last forever,” Sam promised.

“I want to sleep now,” Samandriel murmured.

Sam carried the angel back to their bed and held him. He stroked Samandriel’s feathers, his fingers ghosting over the pin feathers in an almost reverent sort of way. Samandriel fell into a light, fitful sleep with moments of awareness. Sam never left his side.

***

Another week passed and patience was wearing thin. Dean was getting short tempered and that was never a good sign. Even Cas was getting anxious. Sam nearly wept tears of joy when he saw the truck in the distance. Finally, they’d get some news. He was hoping that they would get the all-clear to start up again, but he knew it was unlikely. They listened to the radio in the Impala when they could and the pro-slavery rhetoric was stronger than ever.

Bobby held on to Jody’s hand as they walked toward the cabin. They looked so grim that Sam halfway expected them to say that someone had died. Turned out, the actual news wasn’t much better.

“Garth has been arrested,” Jody said.

“Shit,” Dean sighed. That seemed to sum up everyone’s feelings, so no one else said anything for a while.

“Boys, you’re gonna have to just stay here,” Bobby said. “Everyone else has already gone into hiding. It’s just not safe out there anymore.”

“So we’re just supposed to sit around?” Dean snapped.

“Unless you’d rather get arrested,” Bobby retorted.

“Do you have any other news?” Sam asked to defuse the tension.

“Right now, no news is good news,” Jody said. “When they make an arrest, it’s a huge ordeal. It’s for the best that we don’t hear anything at all.”

Bobby nodded in agreement. “That applies to us too. I don’t know when we’ll be able to make it back here again, so as long as you don’t hear our names on the news just assume we’re fine. Don’t take any stupid risks. It’s only a matter of time before they connect this to you boys.”

After the Singers left, Dean punched the door frame. “I can’t just sit around like this,” he said.

“You heard what Bobby said,” Sam reasoned. “It’s not going to do any good to get ourselves locked up.”

“Sam’s right,” Cas added. “Strategically, the wisest choice is to stay here.”

“I need to do something,” Dean grumbled.

“Maybe you guys could go for a run,” Sam suggested. “It should be safe if you stay hidden in the trees and far away from the road.”

Dean perked up at the idea and Cas smiled at the change in his demeanor. The two of them were out the door in a blur of plaid and feathers. Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the sight and he hoped that burning off some excess energy would make his older brother a little less unbearable to be around.

Sam turned to Samandriel, glad to see the angel was smiling. Sam had been worried constantly, but he tried not to let it show too much. Samandriel needed time and space to heal so Sam was trying his best not to be too overbearing.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I feel a lot better,” Samandriel said.

Sam believed that. The angel was going on two days without nightmares. He wasn’t totally better, not by any means, but he was on his way. “Do you want me to groom your wings?” Sam asked.

Samandriel nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Sam took Samandriel by the hand and led him to the bed. Samandriel laid on his stomach and rested his head on a pillow. He smiled shyly at Sam as he let his wings spread out. Sam spritzed water over the feathers and then got to work. He wasn’t as timid as he’d been the first few times and he let his fingers travel deeper into the feathers than he had before. Samandriel let out a soft, happy sound. Sam got braver, working closer and closer to the base of the wings.

The first brush against the oil gland startled Sam. He knew about them in theory, but he hadn’t expected the sudden rush of warm liquid. He spread the oil onto feathers and it made them even more radiant. Sam repeated the process, massaging the glands more and more to coat his hands with the oil.

Sam was so wrapped up in what he was doing that it took him awhile to realize that Samandriel was enjoying it a lot. The angel had the sheets balled up in his fists and he was moaning into his pillow while rocking his hips back and forth against the mattress.

It took a moment for Samandriel to realize that Sam had stopped grooming his wings. He let out a soft whine. “More, Sam,” he pleaded. “Keep going. It feels good.”

Sam laughed. “You know, baby, there are other ways that I can make you feel good.”

Samandriel whimpered and a little damp spot started to form at the seat of his pants. “Please?”

Sam swallowed. His angel just looked so innocent and the possibilities raced through his mind. It had been such a long time since Sam had been intimate with anyone. He didn’t really feel the urge unless he was already close emotionally. To be honest, he hadn’t missed it much until that moment. Suddenly, he wanted Samandriel in every position he could think of. He wanted to take his angel soft and tender then rough and dirty. He wanted Samandriel against a wall and begging for it, or maybe riding his cock slow and sweet.

Sam turned the angel over and pulled his pants away quickly. His white feathers were puffed out and his wings were twitching in a come-hither sort of way. Sam traced his fingers up under the angel’s shirt and his hips jerked forward.

“Has anyone ever touched you like this?” Sam asked.

“Not like this,” Samandriel whispered. “Please, Sam.”

Sam kissed Samandriel’s forehead and made himself slow things down. He took his time, removing every bit of Samandriel’s clothing. As an afterthought, he stripped off his own shirt before pulling Samandriel close and kissing his angel gently.

“Sam, please,” Samandriel groaned against his lips. “Please, I want...”

Sam smiled and kissed the tip of Samandriel’s nose. “I’ve got you.”

He reached around to the oil glands one last time, coating his hand in the slick liquid. Samandriel’s hips canted upwards and his thighs spread. Sam grasped the angel’s pretty little cock and started to slowly stroke. He watched the flushed red head appear and disappear through his fingers.

Samandriel’s thighs were shaking and his toes curled as he tried desperately to hold off coming so he could make the pleasure last. He whimpered and moaned, closing his eyes to concentrate. His blunt fingernails dug into Sam’s neck and he pressed his cheek against the thundering of Sam’s heart.

“It’s alright, baby,” Sam whispered encouragement and then trailed his tongue over the shell of Samandriel’s ear.

His angel clung even closer to him and fucked into Sam’s fist. Samandriel grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips brushed and Samandriel gasped. Sam felt the first hot spurt of the angel’s release. Samandriel moaned and whimpered as he came. There were tears in his eyes when the last wave shuddered out. He was mumbling happy but unintelligible things.

Sam laid him down gently on the bed and pried himself away from the angel long enough to unbutton his pants and free his cock. He was so hard it was almost painful and now that Samandriel had been satisfied, Sam was desperate for release. He wrapped his arms around Samandriel and started to rut against the angel’s thighs. Samandriel’s legs drifted open and Sam was fucking the space between them with Samandriel’s come, wing oil, and the slick from his hole easing the way.

His cock brushed against Samandriel’s opening, but Sam didn’t press inside no matter how bad he wanted to. He was going to take his time with Samandriel. When the time came, Sam was going to lick and finger his angel until he begged for it. Thinking about it sent Sam over the edge. He caught himself on his elbows to keep from crushing Samandriel as he groaned and came.

Neither of them moved for a moment or two. Sam slowly adjusted their position so that Samandriel was laying on his chest. The fluids started to cool and feel sticky on their skin. After awhile, it got a bit uncomfortable and Sam stood up. Samandriel was still in a happy daze so Sam carried him into the bathroom.

They both rinsed off in the shower and afterward they kissed lazily while air drying. They returned to the bed and couldn’t help a fit of laughter at the mess they’d made of the sheets, which ended up in a pile on the floor. They grabbed the extra blankets and laid down.

“I think I love you, Sam Winchester,” Samandriel said while his fingers traced the edges of Sam’s tattoo.

Sam smiled. “I think I love you too, Samandriel,” he replied.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I was a bad tomato and finished this totally last minute.

Samandriel sat cross legged in front of the rose bushes. It was a cold morning, but he was warm wrapped in Sam’s jacket. He was gently petting the leaves of the plants, letting them know that he was there for them. There were several buds on the bushes, but none opened. The roses were reluctant. It had been so long since he’d been Heaven’s gardener that they’d grown lonely and unused to his voice.

He gently caressed a few of the tightly closed buds. “I know, it’s so cold,” he said softly. “I know what it’s like to be cold. I was cold for a long time, but now I have Sam Winchester.”

The rose bushes waved a bit, excited to hear about Samandriel’s new relationship. Roses always were interested in any sort of news. They gossiped endlessly and these particular roses had gone a long time without any new information to share and pick apart.

“He’s very handsome,” he said. “He’s been so kind to me. He rescued me and he’s been taking care of me. He’s wonderful to talk to and he shows me so many things. When he kisses me...well, it’s wonderful.”

The roses started to bloom. They were pale pink and Samandriel reached out to touch the new petals. He laughed, knowing that they’d spend the rest of the day analyzing his relationship.

Samandriel was startled when he heard Sam’s laughter coming from the stone path. “Do you always tell your plants about your love life?” he asked.

“Roses are very nosy, Sam,” the angel stated. It was common knowledge.

Sam laughed again. “Oh, really?’

Samandriel didn’t know what was funny, but he loved how Sam laughed with his whole body. He stood and walked over to the human. He had to stand up on his tiptoes to kiss Sam. He wavered a bit and his lips pressed against Sam’s chin, which made Sam shake with laughter all over again.

Samandriel pouted and grabbed Sam by the collar to pull him down closer. Sam was still grinning and Samandriel couldn’t help but smile too. “You’re ridiculously tall,” he scolded before kissing Sam gently

“Maybe,” Sam conceded. “Or maybe you’re just short.” He hugged Samandriel close and rested his chin on top of Samandriel’s head.

Samandriel closed his eyes and let out a content sigh. He loved moments like this, where Sam’s arms surrounded him and warmth radiated through him. He could almost feel his Grace soaking it all in. There were some perks to bonding to a giant and amazing hugs were definitely in the top ten.

“The roses are beautiful,” Sam said sincerely. “You did a great job.”

Samandriel laughed as the roses repeated that to each other. They were quite impressed with Sam as well. He was so glad to be among the plants again. This was what he was meant to do.

***

Crowley was a man who got what he wanted. He had the finest things that money could buy. He owned several antique cars, beautiful artwork, expensive clothing. To protect it all, he had a highly trained private security staff, a state of the art alarm system, and some downright vicious dogs. Yet, none of that stopped two denim wrapped nightmares and an angel in a trenchcoat from stealing his favorite plaything.

Sure, he could afford another angel, but it wouldn’t be the same. Besides, it wasn’t necessarily about having an angel, but having an angel with highly sought after traits. Samandriel was a rarity that had cost him nearly two million dollars. The angel’s youth and his unique white wings made him highly desirable and Crowley loved having things that others were jealous of. Nothing pleased him more than shooting down the pathetic morons that tried to make offers.

Not to mention how beautiful white wings looked when they were splattered with blood. Crowley had perfected torture to an art. He knew just how to wear the angel down. The screams and cries of anguish were like music to him. No one had the right to take that away from him.

One way or another, he’d have his property back and whoever it was that had stolen the angel would pay dearly. Crowley had the local media in his pocket and anyone with a gun who fancied themselves a slave catcher was ruthlessly competing for reward money that Crowley had no intention of paying. He just found it rather amusing to watch their futile attempts. It was a good thing he wasn’t depending on them.

Such a high profile case attracted several real slave catchers as well, ones that had some moderate success. Crowley didn’t trust them either. They were barely above bumbling amateurs. He wanted the best and there was no one better than Dick Roman. Unfortunately, Roman knew how good he was and had the gall to avoid Crowley’s attempts at meeting. Crowley was not someone that got told no.

Crowley finally managed to corner Roman after a news interview. All it took was sneaking into the back of the man’s car. Roman didn’t look pleased, but he told his chauffeur to drive on anyway.

“I see it wasn’t enough to be told no over the phone,” Roman said. “So you’ve come to hear it in person?”

“I don’t expect to be told no,” Crowley replied.

“Look, I know why you’re here. Someone stole your toy and now you want me to get it back.”

Roman had the nerve to roll his eyes, but Crowley kept his cool. “Isn’t that what you do?”

“It’s what I used to do. I’ve set my sights a little higher now,” Roman said. “These slave thieves are giving me a perfect platform to move on to bigger things.”

“What could be bigger than the amount of money I offered you?”

Roman leaned in conspiratorially and spoke at a lower volume even though there was no one of any importance around to hear. “Between you and me, Mr. Crowley, I plan to ride this straight to the White House. This abolition debate is golden and the pro-slavery crowd is just waiting for the right candidate. Who better than a renowned slave catcher?”

Crowley chuckled. “You’re smarter than you look.”

Roman grinned. “Oh, now you’re just flirting.”

“I assure you, I’m not,” Crowley said. “I do have a deal for you though.”

“I’m not going to waste my time finding your little angel.”

“Think of it as an investment. One last big catch before you announce your candidacy and I announce my full endorsement. My case is fairly high profile. Many people are watching.”

Roman considered the proposal and then shook Crowley’s hand. “You’ve got a deal.”

***

It was getting difficult to look on the bright side. There wasn’t much for entertainment out in the middle of nowhere. Sam had already read all the books. The only radio station they could get this far out seemed to play the same three songs over and over again and none of them were very good. When they weren’t playing hackneyed hits, they were repeating pro-slavery talking points ad nauseum.

There was a bright side, however, and that was Samandriel. More specifically, having all the time in the world to get to know every inch of Samandriel. Not even in a sexual way. No, it was counting the freckles that spread across his shoulders. It was finding that there was one feather on his left wing that stuck out no matter how many times he smoothed it down. He’d traced the Enochian sigils tattooed onto Samandriel’s skin so many times with his tongue and fingers that he could see them perfectly in his mind and could probably draw them with his eyes closed.

They often laid in bed together, touching and memorizing. It was peaceful. The rest of the world seemed far away in those moments and time didn’t really matter. It was easy to forget the situation they were in, or at least let it drift to the back of their minds.

The chirp of a cell phone pulled them out of their lazy haze. The cell phone had been silent for days. It was a prepaid throwaway, but still fairly expensive because it had e-mail capabilities. Replacing it every month would have been a huge hit financially if they hadn’t been using fraudulent credit cards. However, it was important because it was used only for emergencies.

Sam leapt out of the bed and opened the e-mail. “Dean!” he shouted after he’d skimmed it over.

His older brother rushed in with Cas at his heels as always. Sam held out the phone. “It’s a message from Bobby, I think. I don’t recognize the e-mail.”

“Hotchik99,” Dean chuckled. His smile faded as he read. “They’re questioning Bobby and Jody. Damn...that’s getting a little too close.”

“That’s not all,” Sam said. “Keep reading.”

“They’re being followed? That means we’re up the creek without a paddle all the way out here,” Dean said. “They’re not going to be able to keep bringing us supplies.”

Cas nodded. “We should start to ration what we have left,” he said. “Samandriel and I will be fine without food.”

Samandriel looked terrified. “Are the slave catchers coming for me, Sam?” he asked.

Sam tried a little too hard to smile as he told a white lie. “We’re safe out here. We’re hidden. It’ll be alright.”

Dean shot Sam a look, but didn’t say anything. “Cas and I will get rid of the phone.”

“Be careful,” Sam warned.

Dean nodded. “We’ll just go to the edge of the forest and I’ll have Cas chuck it as far as possible.”

***

Normally, a successful raid would be a big boost for Victor. He’d feel satisfied, proud even. He’d know that the work he was doing was good. This time, it just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was because he’d led a SWAT team through the cheap, dirty motel room being rented out to a kid barely old enough to drink.

It just didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like this had a purpose. Most of what Victor did involved busting up illegal trafficking, angels that were stolen from their owners and then resold. This felt different. He’d never seen an angel fight so hard trying to protect a human.

Adam Milligan was in rough shape. A few members of the team had heard a rumor that this was a different kind of raid, trying to uncover some sort of abolitionist scheme. They took the opportunity to share their opinion in the form of dislocating the kid’s shoulder. Even injured, Adam was proving to be impossible to work with.

“I need you to cooperate with me here, Adam,” Victor said. “You’re going to jail, do you understand that? How long you stay there is up to you. Where did you get the angel?”

“I have the right to remain silent, don’t I?” Adam snapped. “I’m not going to say anything else until I see that Michael’s alright.”

Victor huffed and felt a tension headache starting to build up. “Kid, you aren’t helping yourself here. I need you to give me something I can work with.”

Though he didn’t say a word, the kid’s body language made it clear what he thought of Victor. He was leaned back in his chair and staring at Victor with way too much insolence in his eyes and well, if looks could kill...

Victor strode out of the room and went to the observation area, where he could see the angel being interrogated on the other side of the glass. He put in an earpiece and pressed a button to listen in.

“I want my human,” the angel said.

“Do you know who your real master is?” the interrogator asked.

The angel seemed offended. “I am owned by no one,” he spat. “I choose Adam and I want to see that he is safe. I will smite you, worm. Let me go.” The angel’s wings were lifted in what Victor recognised as an aggressive stance and even though one was crooked and moved sluggishly, it was still a bit intimidating.

The angel was tranquilized, but that only served to anger him more. “I demand to see Adam,” Michael slurred. “He needs me.” The angel amazingly conjured a flash of light. While it didn’t quite smite anyone, it did set off the fire alarm.

Victor had never seen anything like it. Most of the angels he’d encountered were incredibly weak, but this was looking like one of the bonds he’d been hearing about, the kind that made the angels thrive rather than just survive. If that was the case, this could get dangerous.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh...well, I tried. Sorry, I'm a bit out of it lately.

“I’m going,” Dean declared, as if he said it with enough finality in his tone no one would argue.

“Dean, you can’t,” Sam disagreed. “For all we know, we could be on wanted posters all over the country. We could get caught.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dean snapped. “But what else are we supposed to do? Just sit out in the middle of the woods and starve? I can blend in a lot easier than you, I should be the one to go get us more supplies.

“I’m going with you,” Cas said, startling both brothers. He’d been silent during their whole debate.

“No,” Sam and Dean said in unison, finally agreeing on something.

Dean tried to reason with Cas. “You’ll just draw attention to us. The news about runaway angels is all over the place, people are gonna notice a new one in town.”

Cas didn’t back down and the look on his face said that nothing was going to change his mind. “If you go alone, you could be recognized and arrested and I’d never know where they took you,” Cas said. “I’m going with you.”

Dean looked like he desperately wanted to find a flaw in the angel’s logic. He sighed when he couldn’t think of anything. “Fine. We’ll go to the nearest city during rush hour. People won’t notice us as much if it’s busy.”

Cas looked pleased to get his way, but there was still a bit of worry in his eyes. For all they knew, law enforcement or slave catchers could be waiting for them as soon as they arrived, but they were down to a bag of rice and two pumpkin pie PopTarts from last fall. The Winchester boys were no strangers to being hungry, not after their childhood, but even they couldn’t survive on that for much longer.

Sam dug through the desk for the map and helped Dean pick the best route to the nearest city. He wished it was him that was going and taking the risk, but Dean was right. As tall as he was, he was easy to spot in a crowd. Dean had a much better chance of blending in. Plus he and Cas had years of experience playing at master and slave in public.

They’d be alright. They had to be.

***

Sam was pacing around the cabin, occasionally exercising to work off nervous energy. Dean and Cas had only left a few hours ago, but Sam was already worrying. So many things could go wrong. He never should have agreed to let them go. He was pulled out of his thoughts when he realized that it looked like a tornado had gone through the living room.

He wandered around the cabin until finally he heard Samandriel moving around in their room. He smiled and opened the door to find Samandriel carefully building some sort of pillow fort out of every cushion available in the house. Sam leaned against the doorway. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Samandriel huffed. “It’s not ready yet, you weren’t supposed to come in.” He stomped over and pushed Sam out the door. “I’ll tell you when.”

Sam let himself be pushed out of the room, slightly amused at whatever it was Samandriel was up to. It seemed like it would be a good distraction. Focusing on Samandriel was the best thing Sam could do. His attention and affection would only serve to make the angel grow stronger and better able to help out with future rescue missions.

He was banished for the room for a total of two minutes before Samandriel opened the door again. “Okay,” he said hesitantly. “You can come in now.”

The pile of pillows and cushions looked the same as it had a few minutes ago and Sam didn’t really know what he was supposed to be looking at. “It’s very nice.”

Samandriel wilted. “You don’t like it.”

Sam shook his head. “No, of course I like it. It’s a beautiful...uh...”

“It’s a nest, Sam,” Samandriel said grumpily. “I made it for us.”

Sam put his arms around Samandriel and smoothed down his feathers. “Then I love it.”

“You promise?” Samandriel asked.

Sam smiled and kissed the top of Samandriel’s head. “I promise. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize it. There are still some things about angels that I don’t know, but you could teach me. What’s the nest for?”

Samandriel blushed. “It’s supposed to impress you so that...so that you’ll kiss me again plus other stuff.” The last part of the sentence came out in a jumble.

Sam tilted Samandriel’s chin up and kissed his lips gently. “If you wanted that, you just had to ask.”

“It’s more than that, Sam,” the angel admitted. “I wanted...I wanted you to be my mate so I had to make a nest for you.”

Sam grinned. “So that’s the angel way of asking me to be your boyfriend, then?”

Samandriel nodded. “Yeah, I’m supposed to build you this nest and then I sit in it and I make my wings look pretty. You’re supposed to be impressed and want to kiss me.”

“I already want to kiss you, though,” Sam said.

Samandriel gave an annoyed sigh. “Not the regular kind of kissing, Sam.”

Sam did his best to contain his laughter. “You mean like we did before.”

“Yes,” Samandriel groaned impatiently. “That’s what the nest is for, to attract my mate.”

Sam leaned down to kiss Samandriel again, moving his tongue slowly over Samandriel’s bottom lip and reaching down to grab his ass. He pressed Samandriel against him until he heard those breathy moans that he loved so much. Samandriel puffed up his feathers and lifted his wings just a bit. Sam smiled and took that as a hint. He went straight for the oil glands, massaging them with one hand as he worked at removing Samandriel’s clothes with the other.

They stumbled a bit and Sam laid Samandriel down on the pile of pillows. He ground his palm against Samandriel, feeling the outline of his erection. Sam smiled, watching how his angel responded to him. He leaned in close and whispered, “So beautiful.”

Samandriel whimpered. “Touch me, Sam. Please.” He pulled at Sam’s shirt in a clumsy effort to get it off.

Sam worked on his buttons while kissing the exposed skin of Samandriel’s stomach. He trailed his tongue along the waistband of Samandriel boxers, feeling how the muscles tensed up under his touch. He removed his shirt a bit clumsily, eager to get the angel out of his pants and finally he succeeded. Sam paused for a moment just to admire how Samandriel was quivering from just the anticipation of his touch.

Sam teased Samandriel a bit more. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to hear all of those beautiful sounds and commit it all to memory because there was no way to know what was coming tomorrow or when things could all come to an end. He ran his fingers lightly over Samandriel’s inner thigh, following with his tongue. He reversed his path, approaching Samandriel’s cock. The angel shook with anticipation, but Sam passed it entirely, instead working up to Samandriel’s neck.

“Please, Sam,” the angel whimpered.

Sam smiled. “Just trust me,” he said. He traced over Samandriel’s tattoos with kisses, working down to lick at his nipple. At that point, the angel grabbed a fistful of Sam’s hair, trying to force him downward. Sam liked the feeling, the way Samandriel was trying so desperately to get release. The angel’s hips were thrusting upward wildly and his moans were only getting louder.

Sam kept the slow pace downward until he decided that Samandriel had waited long enough. He was rewarded with a hoarse cry of his name when he finally ran his tongue over the sensitive underside of the angel’s cock. He paused for a second to look up at the ecstasy on Samandriel’s face before he took as much as he could in his mouth. He penetrated the angel’s slick hole with one finger, slowly and gently.

Samandriel moved erratically, trying to take Sam’s finger deeper inside of him and trying to press his cock further into Sam’s mouth at the same time. He moaned and whimpered, occasionally whispering Sam’s name like a prayer, a plea for release. When he finally got what he wanted, his moan sounded more like a scream and he was panting for breath as he came down from the high. Sam trailed his hands over Samandriel’s thighs and up his belly before laying down next to him, propping himself up on his elbow so he could still admire the angel.

Suddenly, Samandriel bounced up. “I want to do that,” he said.

Sam smiled and reclined, giving Samandriel access. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Samandriel’s hands were shaky as he pulled at Sam’s jeans and soon he gave up. The angel ran his hands over Sam’s chest. “I want to,” he said.

Sam pulled his pants down to his thighs, but Samandriel was already distracted. He was kissing Sam’s chest, moving slowly down to his stomach, as if the angel was trying to make sure he worshipped every inch. Sam’s cock throbbed, but he figured it was karma considering how he’d teased Samandriel before.

Samandriel wasn’t interested in revenge though. He eagerly stretched his lips around the head of Sam’s cock. He was a bit clumsy and Sam had to hide his winces a few times before Samandriel figured out the right way to cover his teeth. Samandriel was quick to figure it out and soon his tongue was moving in all the right ways and his hand was stroking up and down the shaft. Sam put his hand at the back of Samandriel’s head and just left it there. It felt amazing and he wanted to thrust deeper into the wet, warm heat, but he held back and let Samandriel work.

Sam’s toes curled and he closed his eyes. “Baby, I’m about to come,” he whispered as a warning.

Samandriel only got more enthusiastic and he started moving faster. Sam closed his eyes and tried to control his hips as they jerked forward. He groaned and bit down on his lip. Samandriel laid on top of him, a streak of white dribbling down his chin.

“Was I good?” Samandriel asked.

Sam laughed and kissed his angel. “You were very good.”

***

Dean and Cas returned later that evening, a bit earlier than expected. Sam was relieved to see them. He rushed out to greet them, but slowed down when he saw their serious expressions.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“There are slave catchers everywhere,” Dean said. “We got what we could, but we had to get out of there fast.”

Cas wordlessly carried the bags inside.

“How bad is it?” Sam swallowed nervously.

“There are hundreds of them, Sammy,” Dean said. “I overheard talk of them searching the woods.”

Sam closed his eyes. “So they could be coming for us.”

“Looks that way,” Dean grunted. He went inside the cabin and headed straight to his room.

Sam shoved his hands into his pockets and went to his room to find Samandriel sleeping peacefully on his pillow nest. He leaned against the door frame and tried to think of a way out, a way to keep Samandriel safe.


	8. Chapter 7

Sam joined Dean and Cas at the dining room table. Samandriel was still in his nest asleep, blissfully unaware. Sam was hoping that Samandriel would sleep for a little while longer before he had to hear the bad news. Sam took a sip of his coffee, but it had gone cold. He sighed and turned to Dean. “So what are we gonna do?” he asked.

Dean just shrugged, staring at the wooden table for a moment. “We don’t have a lot of options,” he finally said.

Cas reached for Dean’s hand. He didn’t seem to have anything to say, but the look on his face was pure worry.

“I guess this is it for us, then?” Sam said.

“Unless you have any bright ideas,” Dean replied. Sam thought for a moment, but nothing came to him. Dean took his silence as an answer. “I guess we should just go down fighting then.”

For a moment, Sam resigned himself to his fate, but the thought of Samandriel returning to Crowley made rage bubble up inside. “We can’t just give up!”

“What other choices do we have?” Dean asked. “They’re closing in on us and unless some sort of miracle happens, we’re done.”

“We have other places to hide,” Sam said. “Maybe if we could get to that place in the middle of the Hundred-Mile Wilderness.”

Dean considered the idea and then shook his head slowly. “That’s a long shot. I don’t know if we could make it.”

Cas finally spoke up. “Maybe not all of us could, but perhaps if someone stayed here as a distraction, the others could escape.”

Dean put a protective hand on Cas’s shoulder. “What the hell are you saying, Cas?”

Cas stared at both brothers, the look in his eyes said he’d already made up his mind. “Samandriel is my little brother. I have to keep him safe. If I can do anything to give him a chance at escaping, then I have to do it.”

Dean closed his eyes and let out a resigned sigh. “So, what, I'm Thelma and you're Louise, and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?”

“I don’t understand that reference,” Cas replied with a scowl.

Dean grinned, falling into a fit of laughter that made his eyes crinkle up in the corners. “It means I’m staying with you. We’ll do this together.”

Sam frowned. Splitting up seemed like a good idea, but something about it felt wrong. Still, it was really their only viable option, so he kept his worries to himself. “I should take Samandriel and get going now,” Sam said.

Dean nodded and reached into his pocket for his keys. “Be careful with Baby. If there’s even one scratch, you’re a dead man,” he warned.

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes as he took the keys. He packed up their things as quickly as he could and tossed the duffel bags into the trunk. Nervousness was making him feel a little uneasy, but he had to fight through it. He gently shook Samandriel awake. “Come on, angel,” he said. “We have to go now.”

Samandriel groaned softly. “Sam....what?”

“We’re going on a trip,” Sam said. “Come on.”

Samandriel rubbed at his eyes as he was pulled to his feet. He shuffled along behind Sam, growing more alert and scared as they approached the car. “Why do we have to go?”

“It’s to keep you safe,” Sam said. He guided Samandriel into the passenger seat of the Impala.

“Sam, where’s Castiel?” the angel mumbled.

“He’s coming right now to say goodbye,” Sam said, looking up toward his brother and the dark winged angel.

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and went to talk to Dean while Cas kneeled next to the Impala to talk to Samandriel. “So we’re really doing this, huh?” Sam said in a lame attempt to start a conversation.

Dean nodded. “Look, I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Sam shook his head. “It was all worth it, Dean. I wanted to do it.”

Dean was silent, watching Cas and Samandriel. They couldn’t hear the angels, but they could see the way Cas had both hands on Samandriel’s cheeks and the stern look on his face as he spoke.

“We’ll see you when this blows over,” Dean said. It was the big brother in him, wanting to gloss over things and make it all okay for Sam, but he was far from convincing.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, it’ll probably only be a few weeks,” he said with a shaky grin.

Dean patted Sam on the back a few times and then left his hand there. “Be careful out there,” he said.

“You be careful too.”

They lingered for a while before parting ways. Cas closed the car door and returned to Dean’s side. Sam got in the driver’s seat and started up the Impala. He watched Dean and Cas in the rearview mirror until he couldn’t see them anymore.

***

Sam told him to act natural, but Samandriel couldn’t help his. His eyes darted wildly and he jumped and sunk down in his seat whenever he saw slave catchers. It seemed like they were in every town, carrying ropes and duct tape to their vans or loading bean bag guns meant to break and bruise fragile wings.

“You need to calm down,” Sam said firmly. “You’re acting really suspicious.”

“I’m scared, Sam,” the angel whispered. “They’re gonna take me back.”

Sam reached over and rested his hand on Samandriel’s thigh. “I told you, I’m taking you somewhere safe. You’ll be alright.”

“I can’t go back there,” Samandriel whimpered. “I can’t go back.”

“You won’t,” Sam promised, even though he had no way to guarantee that.”

***

Victor stared in horror at the dungeon before him. The rest of the crime scene crew was unphased, but Victor was frozen in his tracks. It looked like something straight out of the Inquisition. It was cold and the lights made everything cast an ominous shadow. There was a wooden X against one wall, with leather cuffs at each point. Chains hung from an iron grid on the ceiling. The walls had shelves of devices meant to cause pain: whips, canes, a tray of various razors and knives.

The worst part was the blood. He stared at it, wondering how everyone else could just walk past it. There were clumps of white feathers soaked in dried blood and he was starting to see why someone would steal an angel away from this. The system was never meant for this. It was supposed to be for the angel’s own good, but this was like some sort of Hell on earth.

He left the crime scene, not bothering to tell anyone where he was going. He stripped off his FBI jacket as he got in his car and threw it onto the passenger side floorboard. He tossed his badge down there as well. He couldn’t be a part of this.

He started driving. He wasn’t sure where he was going. Next thing he knew, the sun was setting and he was crossing the state line. He stopped for the night at a hotel, still hopeless and lost. He woke up early the next morning and kept driving.

Finally, he ended up at the junkyard owned by Bobby Singer. He knocked on the front door and Singer’s wife, Jody, answered. She seemed hesitant to let him in, but soon enough he was sitting on the couch holding a glass of water.

He sighed and stared directly ahead. “I can’t be part of this anymore. I was wrong,” he admitted. “These past few days...I’ve seen things that made me question everything. I know I’ll get hell for it, but I want to help you.”

Bobby eyed him suspiciously. “That’s an awful big change of heart.”

“The little angel, the one with the white wings,” Victor said. “He was being tortured. I saw the place where it happened.” Anger swelled up inside of him as he thought about it. “We all know what happened there, yet my job is to take that angel back. How the fuck is that right?”

“It isn’t,” Jody said. She turned to Bobby and they shared a look, the kind that people who had been together for a long time could use to communicate without a word.

“The best thing you can do is stop this slave hunt,” Bobby said. “Our boys are doing the right thing, but they’re hiding like criminals. It needs to end. You need to call off your guys.”

Victor sighed. “I don’t have the power to do that. I can send them on a wild goose chase and that should take the heat off your people for a while, but that’s just buying time at best.”

***

Dean stood at the window, watching and waiting for the inevitable. Soon enough he spotted a single car coming up the driveway. “Cas, this is it,” he said. His mouth was dry. The Hendrickson guy from TV got out of the car. Dean thought it was strange that he was by himself. He’d expected a full on SWAT team assault. He was even more confused when Bobby got out of the passenger seat.

Dean took Cas by the hand and they went out to meet the others. “Wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Dean demanded. “I know you didn’t sell us out, Bobby.”

Victor held up both hands. “I’m not here to arrest you. I want to help.”

“Where’s Sam and the other angel?” Bobby asked.

“Fuck,” Dean said under his breath. “They made a run for it. Shit. We thought that it was just about over for us and we wanted to at least give Samandriel a fighting chance.”

“Samandriel’s the little white winged one, right?” Victor asked. Dean nodded and Victor winced. “I saw the place you took him from. I can’t believe I’ve been so blind to what really happens to angels.”

“Yeah, that’s good for you and all, but what about Sam and Alfie?” Dean replied. “They could get caught.”

Victor nodded. “We just have to get to them first.”

***

Finally, they were close to the secluded cabin. It was deep in the woods and run down enough that hikers didn’t go near it. Sam stopped at a sporting goods store to pick up what they’d need to get to the place. All that stood between them and safety was a long trek through the woods. Once they were there, they were set. The cabin was stocked with canned goods and bottled water. It would be rough with no heating and no running water, but they’d find a way to manage. The important thing was keeping Samandriel safe.

Sam kissed the angel. “We’re almost there,” he said. “It’ll all be alright.”

He locked the doors to the Impala and started toward the store, nodding curtly at the dark haired woman he passed in the parking lot.

***

Meg doubted there were many people as tall as the man her uncle was after and the white feather stuck to his pant leg was a dead giveaway. She smirked and grabbed her cell phone. It took awhile, but finally he answered.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

“Hello, Uncle Crowley,” Meg said. “I’d like to report a moose sighting.”


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really, really sorry that I haven't been updating. Real life has been crazy. I had a full-time job for a while. That lasted all of three weeks. Seriously, the worst job I've ever had.  
> In happier news, I found out I'm pregnant. My husband and I are absolutely thrilled. However, morning sickness makes it really difficult to write. I'm figuring out how to avoid getting sick so I'm going to try to get to the point of regularly updating again. After all, there's not all that much more to go.

Sam was glad to finally be at the cabin. It felt safe. They hadn’t seen anyone all day and the only sounds came from nature. Samandriel hadn’t even been inside yet. He was too busy talking to the forest, giving them news from the trees that had surrounded their previous hideout. The angel was quite serious about it, saying that he’d made a promise.

Sam decided that he was going to make them an actual meal. They’d spent the past few days living off of fast food and gas station fare. However, cooking out here would be a little bit different and he wasn’t sure how it would work out. They had a small generator, but it was noisy and according to Samandriel the trees didn’t like it, so the best Sam could do was a salad. He pulled everything out of a cooler and used a battery powered lantern to work by.

In retrospect, it seemed inevitable that something would go wrong. Sam cursed as the lantern flickered and the knife slipped in his hand. By the time he’d found another light source, blood had run all the way down the side of his hand. Samandriel came to see what the commotion was and the look on the angel’s face when he saw what had happened was pure panic.

“Sam, you’re bleeding,” he said.

“I know,” Sam replied, looking for a towel.

“That’s a lot of blood, Sam,” the angel said in a worried tone. “Are you gonna die?”

Sam smiled. “No, it’s just a cut.” He finally found a paper towel to cover the wound. “It’s not even as bad as it looks.”

Samandriel squinted and got close to the injury. He took Sam’s hand gently and before soon there was a soft blue glow around the small cut. “Samandriel, you’re not strong enough!” Sam protested. He pulled his hand away, but when he got a good look he saw that the only thing there was a pink scar. For a second, Sam could only stare. He looked to see his angel, very pleased with himself but wavering on his feet. Sam put an arm around Samandriel. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He managed to get them into the bedroom and felt around until he found the lighter. Once he got a few candles going, he turned back to Samandriel. The angel was grinning even though he looked ready to pass out.

“You could’ve really hurt yourself,” Sam scolded gently.

“But I healed you, Sam,” Samandriel said.

“You need to rest,” Sam replied, his brow crinkled with concern.

Samandriel shook his head. “I need you to stay with me.”

Sam brushed his hand against Samandriel’s cheek. “Sure, I’ll stay right here.” Sam continued to touch Samandriel gently, giving him the affection he needed to recharge his Grace.

Sam’s hands trailed down the side of the angel’s neck, over his collarbone. He brushed over Samandriel’s chest with just his fingertips and smiled at the way the angel hissed and jerked his hips up when Sam grazed over his nipples. Sam trailed his hands all the way down Samandriel’s stomach. He took the bottom hem of Samandriel’s shirt and stripped it off to repeat the same pattern with his lips, kissing down the angel’s body.

“Sam,” his angel whimpered.

“Are you alright with this?” Sam asked. “We don’t have to.”

“Don’t stop,” he whispered.

Sam kissed his angel’s lips and then slowly traced his tongue down. Samandriel was shaking now and when Sam reached down, he could feel the wetness of the angel’s slick gathering. “Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Sam, please,” the angel begged.

Sam smiled and quickly stripped off his shirt. Samandriel ran his fingers over Sam’s stomach while the human pulled off the slick soaked pants. Sam gave the angel a quick kiss before diving down to lick up a bit of the sweet slick that was smeared over Samandriel’s thighs. Samandriel shook when Sam’s tongue got close to where he really wanted it, but Sam was enjoying teasing the angel. Finally, Samandriel had enough and grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair to pull him to the right place.

Sam’s tongue flickered quickly and lightly over Samandriel’s hole, smearing around the fresh slick that slipped out. Another tug on his hair and Sam thrust his tongue in as deep as he could. He could hear Samandriel’s high, needy moans. The angel’s thighs were locked around his head, keeping him in place. Sam reached down with one hand and fumbled open his own jeans, stroking himself while he licked Samandriel to a quivering mess.

Sam slipped one finger inside the angel and immediately felt him clamp around it, working his hips down as if aching for more. Sam imagined how good that would feel on his cock. He added a second finger and watched Samandriel. His angel was blushing all the way down his chest, clutching at the sheets for some kind of leverage as he tried to get Sam’s fingers deeper inside of him.

Sam leaned down to lick at the head of Samandriel’s cock as he slipped in a third finger. Samandriel whimpered a bit, but it seemed any discomfort was forgotten as he tried to both thrust up into Sam’s mouth and down onto his fingers. Sam took more of Samandriel’s erection into his mouth as he worked the angel open so that three fingers slid in and out easily.

“Are you ready?” Sam asked.

Samandriel nodded and rolled his hips. “Please, Sam, I want you as my mate,” he said.

Sam moved away to strip off the last of his clothes. Samandriel clumsily tried to fill himself with his fingers while he waited. Sam let out a soft groan as he watched Samandriel stuff four fingers inside himself. He was so eager about it, like he couldn’t stand to be empty. Sam eased his way back on to the bed. He wrapped an arm around Samandriel’s shoulders. The angel wrapped his legs around Sam’s hips.

“Please,” he whispered.

Sam was still nervous about hurting his angel. After all, he seemed so small sometimes. He slid his hand down between Samandriel’s wings and lightly massaged as he pressed his cock inside the angel’s hole. Samandriel’s back arched beautifully. He let out a sound somewhere between pleasure and pain. Sam pressed in slowly. It was almost unbearable. He wanted to sink into that tight heat, but he knew he had to be gentle the first time.

“It’s so big,” he gasped.

Sam paused. “I can stop if it hurts,” he said.

Samandriel shook his head. “No, no, I want it.”

Sam kissed along Samandriel’s neck and jaw as he slowly eased his way in until he was buried inside his angel. He gave Samandriel a moment to adjust and then rocked his hips, slow and shallow. The angel panted against Sam’s ear.

“Harder,” he demanded breathlessly. “Sam, there, harder.”

Sam smiled and obeyed, making sure to hit the same spot over and over. Samandriel moaned and little shimmers of his Grace started to flicker around them.

“Sam, more,” the angel moaned.

Sam didn’t hold back any longer. The bed creaked beneath them as he pounded into the angel as hard as he could. He thought of how Samandriel would probably walk a little funny the next day and that just encouraged him. He had a need, a drive to claim his angel, to be as connected as possible. It was crazy, he’d never felt it before.

Samandriel’s mouth popped open and sweet moans and whimpers spilled out as he came over his stomach. Sam felt the angel’s body clamp down around him and he collapsed forward onto his elbows as he came.

They were still for a moment. Panting breath struggled to return to normal. Samandriel sighed when Sam’s cock slipped out of him. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Sam. “I’d like to sleep now,” he sighed.

***

Dean knew it wouldn’t work, but he still tried several times to call Sam. Henrickson was on the phone as well, trying to see if there was any information floating around. What he found didn’t turn out to be good.

The FBI agent sighed and sat down at the table. “Dick Roman is on the case. Apparently, someone tipped them off.”

“So what does that mean?” Dean demanded.

“Roman is one of the best slave catchers out there. He always gets his angel. It doesn’t look good.”

Dean clenched his fist and cursed under his breath. “We have to get there before Dick.”

“Dean, that’s physically impossible,” Cas said.

“We’re going,” Dean insisted.

***

Samandriel was a beautiful, disheveled mess. Sam couldn’t help but stare at him, the way the morning sun made his wings shine like pearls. His hair was sticking up in every direction and his body was painted with dried come and slick.

Samandriel opened one eye, saw the sunlight, and turned over with a groan, but he smiled when he saw that Sam was awake.

“How do you feel?” Sam asked.

“I’m, uh, a little sore but I...kind of like it,” the angel replied, blushing shyly like he was still a virgin and  hadn’t been begging to be fucked harder the night before.

“We can do it again whenever you want,” Sam said. “But I think for now we should wash off and have some breakfast.”

Using a jug of water and a washcloth, they washed off as best they could. Sam helped Samandriel, smiling at the whimpering sound when Sam moved the cloth over his puffy, pink hole. Sam planned to soothe the soreness away with his tongue later.

Sam’s stomach growled and he left Samandriel to get dressed while he went in search of something to eat. All at once, hell broke loose. Windows shattered and countless men in all black flooded the cabin. Sam fought hard against them, picking up the knife from the night before as a weapon to break their hold on him. He heard Samandriel scream and that just pushed him to fight harder.

They outnumbered him immensely and even though one ended up with a knife in his thigh, Sam was forced to the ground and his hands were cuffed behind his back. Another group of them drug Samandriel in by a leash attached to a collar they’d forced on him. His wrists and ankles were shackled and he fell down, unable to keep up with their pace.

A man in a suit stepped inside, adjusting his tie as he surveyed his surroundings. “Well, that was easy,” he said. He walked over to Samandriel and pulled on the leash to force the angel to look up to him. “Well, aren’t you just a ton of trouble,” he said. “Your master paid a lot of money to get you back. You’re going to have to work hard to prove you’re worthy.” He nodded toward the door and then men pulled Samandriel away.

Sam knew it was futile, but he struggled against his restraints as he watched Samandriel being taken away. The man turned to him and started to stride toward him. Sam stared up at him defiantly.

“You’ll be staying with me,” the man sneered. “I want you to watch me arrest your whole little team.”


	10. Chapter 9

Sam glanced over at his brother, but quickly returned to staring at his feet. They were wearing orange jumpsuits, chained at the wrists and ankles like they were some sort of danger to society. They were in the back of an armored vehicle, sitting on hard metal benches next to murderers and rapists. The last thing Sam wanted was to stir up trouble.

He was trying to stay positive because if he didn’t, he knew it would be all too easy to give up hope. There was one bright side to all of it and that was the fact that Victor had been able to avoid arrest by claiming that he’d been playing them, pretending to help so that they would lead him to Samandriel.

Sam dug his fingernails into his palms at the thought of his little angel going back to his former master. He wished he could reach out somehow, let Samandriel know that he’d never give up. He’d get his angel back no matter what it took.

For a moment, Sam was able to distract himself from worrying about Samandriel by worrying about Dean. He took a chance to look up from the ground and back at his brother. Dean’s face was blank, but Sam knew his brother well enough to see the rage boiling just below the surface. Finding Cas would be an entirely different challenge. They had no idea of where to start.

Just like that, the hopelessness started to win.

***

Samandriel couldn’t see and he wasn’t sure if it was because his eyes are crusted shut by blood or if they were just gone. It’s better that way, though. If he can’t see where he is, it’s easier to let his mind take him away. He imagined himself back with Sam, back in their nest, so secure and loved. Even when the pain comes, he clenches his teeth and stays in that happy memory. Nothing can take that away.

***

Victor’s career is hanging by a thread and he knows it. The fact that he wasn’t in prison yet was an unbelievable stroke of luck, but he knew it was only a matter of time. At best, he’d lose his job. Realistically, he was going to jail for the rest of his life.

It was a desperate move, but it was their last hope. Victor got out of his cab and looked around. He was sure he was being followed, but he couldn’t see anyone. The apartment building was run down and looked like it had seen better days. He kept the envelope of crime scene photos close to his chest as he searched the listing and rang the buzzer.

“Unless you’re the pizza guy, I don’t care,” a disgruntled voice said over the intercom.

“I am the pizza guy,” Victor replied. There was a pause and a grating sound as he was granted access to the building. He searched the halls until he found unit seven.

The door cracked open and the man inside let out a world weary sigh when he realized there was no pizza. “Again?”

“Mr. Shurley, if I could just have a moment of your time,” Victor said.

The door swung open to reveal an unshaven, thoroughly exhausted man in a ratty blue robe. “What do you want?”

Victor eyed the guy suspiciously. Chuck Shurley was a thorn in the paw of the local law enforcement, quick to write scathing articles at the slightest hint of unethical behavior. Somehow, Victor had been expecting a bit more. He snapped out of his thoughts and handed over the envelope.

Chuck let out another sigh as if all of the world’s weight was on his shoulders. He turned around and opened the envelope. Victor followed and watched as he spread out the photos on an already cluttered dining room table. “What am I looking at?” he said finally.

“These are photos from the Crowley case,” Victor said. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah, some rich guy’s angel went missing...” Chuck’s fingers brushed over the photo of white feathers cemented together into bloody clumps that littered the floor of the dungeon. “This isn’t...”

“They’re the photos the FBI took when we began our investigation into the theft,” Victor explained.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, wincing at the sight of bloodied knives and razors.

“I need you to do what you’re best at,” Victor said. “Use these and write. I want you to cause an uproar. Get people talking about angel abuse. Cause debates, get people protesting.”

“And why are you asking me to do this?” Chuck replied. His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Because,” Victor said, picking up the photos, “an innocent angel was just returned to this situation. Because the ones that rescued him from it were put in jail for their efforts. This has to stop.”

Chuck pushed away a few take out boxes to reveal his laptop. “I’ll have it in tomorrow’s paper.”

***

There was a halo around his head, made of metal. Sharp rods dug in, getting tighter and tighter. Samandriel thought of powdered donuts and orange soda. He thought of a soft cotton shirt that says Weiner Hut. He remembered that there’s someone who wants to protect him. He thought of the tall, broad man who called his wings beautiful and groomed them so carefully.

***

Nothing happened for weeks. Sam was starting to think that maybe Victor had just given up. Maybe he wasn’t doing anything to help. Then the letters started. Strangers all over the country were sending them mail. At first it was just a few, then dozens, then boxes full. Some were writing to tell the Winchesters that they were wrong, that they were going against the natural order of things and they’d pay for their mistakes. Those were outnumbered by the people calling them heroes, telling them that they believed in their cause and would join the fight.

A few weeks after the letters came, Sam heard the protesters outside. He could barely see them when he was out on the yard, but they were there, holding signs and demanding that the Winchesters be set free.

Reporters followed shortly after, wanting to get some sort of comment from the infamous Winchester brothers. If the news was any indication, angel rights were all anyone was talking about lately. More and more people learned about the torture some angels endured and Samandriel became the face of battered angels, used as an example of why things must change.

In a way it helped Sam to know that other people cared about his angel and wanted to see him escape the abuse, but it didn’t help him forget the fact that as far as he knew, Samandriel was still with Crowley.

***

There wasn’t anything but pain. He didn’t even know when the torture started or stopped. It was all blurred together. Every happy thought seemed so far away, but Samandriel tried to hold on to it. He clung to the memory, warm and sleepy as he drifted off in the backseat of the Impala. He could almost imagine the engine sound and the smell of Sam’s leather jacket. Samandriel didn’t know if they’d ever come for him, but as long as he could close his eyes and remember Sam, Dean, and Castiel were there and he was safe.

***

Months had passed. Everything seemed so promising, but nothing was happening. Dean was starting to get a little stir crazy and even Sam, who was usually calmer, felt ready to start a fight just to feel like he was doing something. The lawyers who had taken their case came with nothing but high hopes and promises that things were changing. Sam never believed it was true until the day they finally stood on the other side of the gate.

They heard the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine and they waved like maniacs as Bobby approached. The real celebration on Dean’s part came when Cas climbed out of the backseat. Sam was happy for them, but as he watched them embrace he couldn’t help the pang of sadness. He didn’t even know if Samandriel was still alive.

“How did you...?” Dean asked.

Cas smiled. “They put me up for auction and I was sold, but I ran away. I remembered what you taught me, Dean. I went straight to Bobby.”

After a few more moments of prolonged eye contact and tender words, the happy couple finally realized they weren’t alone. Cas’s delighted grin faded to a sympathetic attempt at a smile when he saw Sam.

“We need to find Samandriel,” Sam said.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, I'm actually updating. Go me. This is the last real chapter. After this will be an epilogue and maybe some other fics in this verse. Probably some Midam, more Samandsam, and Destiel. Who knows? Definitely not me.

Twenty men in SWAT uniforms, with an arsenal of weapons behind them was a whole different world. Doing things the legal way was almost surreal. Sam was wearing a kevlar vest for the first time in his life, but he felt naked without a weapon. However, him joining the rescue mission was contingent on him staying out of the operation, there only because of his close bond with Samandriel.

Sam tried to prepare himself for the worst possible scenario, but he could hardly think of it. It was entirely possible that this was a corpse retrieval and not the rescue they all hoped for. Deep down, Sam knew that Samandriel was alive. Maybe it was some sort of instinct because of their bond, or maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Sam was sure.

Waiting for the team to actually start the operation had Sam tense, but after a while they started storming the compound. It was better now that things were moving, but also worse because Sam was forced to hang back until it was all clear.

***

Samandriel was vaguely aware that something was happening, but it didn’t feel like it could be real. Nothing felt real at that point. He just stared ahead, thought it was so dark that he wasn’t even sure if his eyes were open. They definitely were though, because when light flooded the room he cringed away from it.

It was like the sun was in the room with him. It hurt, even when he closed his eyes tight. He was shaking, wondering what new torture Crowley had in store for him. When he opened his eyes again, the bright light had splintered into individual beams. He was surrounded by tall, dark figures. They circled around him, but they didn’t touch him. He wondered if this was what death felt like.

The circle shifted and then a gap appeared. Samandriel slumped forward, ready to just accept that his life was over. There was a gentle touch against his cheek, a brush of knuckles and a soft plea, “Look at me.”

***

Sam’s heart was pounding as the SWAT team cleared a path for him. Samandriel was slumped forward, held upright only by the iron shackles that bound his wrists high above his head. His naked body was caked with dried blood. It was hard to tell where the injuries were and just how bad. Tears had cleaned paths down his cheeks.

Sam reached for him, touching him gently but the angel still startled at the touch. “Look at me,” he said, speaking softly. “It’s me. You’re safe now.”

Samandriel opened his eyes. In any other situation it would have been comical how wide his eyes got. “Sam,” he squeaked. His voice was barely there, but he was smiling.

“They’re going to get the chains off of you, alright?” Sam said. “I’ll be right here.”

Without the chains to hold him up, Samandriel fell forward, but Sam caught him easily. He found himself getting choked up at the sheer relief of having his angel in his arms again. He wanted nothing more than to carry Samandriel away, clean him off, take him home to one of the cabins, and take care of him. The paramedics had to pull a bit to get Sam to let them load Samandriel on to the stretcher.

After he was covered by blankets, they started to take him to the ambulance. Sam stayed right by his side as they wheeled him out. The night had turned bitterly cold with a biting wind and snowflakes stung at his cheeks. He didn’t even ask if he could ride along to the hospital. He would have fought anyone who even suggested otherwise.

While on the ambulance, one of the paramedics took Samandriel’s vital signs, recording them on a clipboard. “I...I really have no idea what this means. If he were human, I’d say he has a fever but I don’t know about angels,” she admitted. “I don’t even know if I can give him anything for the pain. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more.”

Sam held on to Samandriel’s hand and looked at the woman’s worried face. “It’s fine. Now that he’s with me, he’ll be alright.”

The sound of the siren felt distant and the world outside was a blur. It felt like a long time before the ambulance stopped. The emergency room was quiet and they took Samandriel to a room. He whimpered when they transferred him to a bed and Sam rushed to sooth him. Nurses buzzed around for a while, hooking Samandriel to a machine to monitor his vitals and placing an IV to get him some fluids. After that, there wasn’t much more they could do.

Sam pulled a chair close to the bed and held Samandriel’s hand in both of his, watching the angel’s chest rise and fall. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully and Sam was glad not to see any sign that his angel was in pain.

A few moments later, the door opened and Sam suddenly felt a wave of emotion. “He’s safe,” he managed to say without his voice cracking.

Dean put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and stood next to his brother while Castiel rested two fingers on Samandriel’s forehead. He looked serious, but then again he always looked that way and Sam wasn’t sure how to interpret it. Finally, he spoke. “Samandriel is healing. He’ll sleep for a long time to make it easier. Sam, he’ll need you to stay close to him.” Castiel smoothed back Samandriel’s blood and sweat caked hair.

Sam didn’t need to be told. He was going to stay right where he was.

***

The moment they were in the hallway, Cas crumpled against Dean’s side. With his head against Dean’s chest he could hear how the human’s heart pounded when he started to panic. “What’s wrong? Someone help!”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Cas said, though his voice sounded much weaker than he wanted it to.

“Bullshit,” Dean replied. “You can’t even stand.”

“I had to help Samandriel,” Cas explained. “I suppose I over did things.”

“Yeah, maybe a little. Why they hell did you push yourself like that?”

“Wouldn’t you do the same for your brother?”

Dean couldn’t argue. Instead, he helped Cas out to the car and took him back to their motel room. Cas needed affection to recharge his batteries and after everything that had happened, Dean didn’t mind a night of cuddling and crappy made for TV movies, though he’d never admit that.

***

When Samandriel opened his eyes, all he saw was white and brightness. He wondered if this was Heaven. He didn’t really remember much from back then. Did angels even go to Heaven when they died?

“Hey there,” Sam’s voice said softly.

Samandriel was sure that it was all in his head, but when he looked around he saw Sam’s face. He looked unreal, the light shining around him. “What are you doing here?” Samandriel asked. “Are you dead too?”

Sam let out a relieved laugh. “You’re not dead and neither am I. You’re safe now, actually safe. We’re not hiding anymore. You’re free.”

Samandriel smiled, but freedom felt like a distant thing when his entire body ached the way it did. His lips were badly chapped and they cracked and bled a bit when he smiled. Sam was quick to remedy the situation with a tube of chapstick from his pocket.

“That tastes really bad,” Samandriel said, forehead wrinkled in disgust.

“Well don’t eat it,” Sam replied. “You need to rest, alright? You’ll feel better soon.”

***

Soon turned out to be a few months. Being in the hospital had them both feeling stir crazy, but the boredom was worth it as Samandriel progressively got stronger. They watched on the crappy hospital television as the world outside changed. There were calls for massive reform of the angel trade system. So called slave thieves were released and replaced by sadistically abusive owners.

They weren’t totally cut off. Visitors came and went. Dean and Cas stopped by in between jobs. They were doing what they’d always done, placing angels with the right kind of people. They said it was different now, much more efficient with law enforcement helping rather than trying to put them in jail. Michael and Adam stopped by once. They were busy, trying to learn more about the medical side of caring for angels and together they’d made some progress in figuring out the similarities and differences between the anatomy of humans and angels. Bobby and Jody brought reading materials and decent food every few weeks.

All in all, it wasn’t the worst experience but Sam was glad when they left. They hit the road in a truck loaned from Bobby. Sam wasn’t really sure where they’d go, but finally he decided on the cabin, the first one. He thought Samandriel would be glad to see the roses again and it was nice and secluded enough for him to finish healing safely.

It was a long drive, but Samandriel slept most of the time anyway. He was needy for touch though. His eyes would shoot open if Sam’s hand left his and he would make the smallest, most pathetic whimper that had Sam consumed with guilt for the next fifteen miles.

After a stop for supplies, they arrived at the cabin. The roses outside had shed most of their petals and the inside had been practically ransacked by the police. Distracted by his plant friends, Samandriel wandered away from Sam for the first time since they’d been reunited. Sam didn’t mind and took the opportunity to clean up inside.

After an hour, he’d cleaned up a reasonable amount and went outside to see that the Samandriel had talked the roses into bearing flowers again. He seemed alright during the day. It was at night that things got bad. The nightmares started getting worse than ever before. Samandriel would wake up screaming and sometimes he wouldn’t stop until his voice was gone. Moments like that terrified Sam, but he was comforted by the fact that this time he could say with 100% certainty that no one would ever take Samandriel away from him again.

It wasn’t completely better, and they didn’t know if Samandriel could ever fully recover from what had been done to him. The happy moments made it worth it. Moments when Samandriel’s limbs wrapped around Sam’s body, his gentle moans, and breathless Enochian chanted against Sam’s skin made it feel like nothing mattered but the two of them. As much as Sam wished that he could go back, somehow prevent anything bad from ever happening to Samandriel, when he saw his angel in moments like that he knew he wouldn’t trade it for anything.


End file.
